


Closer to Fine

by used_songs



Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Child Abuse, Depression, Get your ass to Mars, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Recovery, Robotics, SI, Science Bros, canon alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-20
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 15:18:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 14
Words: 53,565
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7537831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/used_songs/pseuds/used_songs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It took about 100 days for Tony Stark to move on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

_“We can only see a short distance ahead, but we can see plenty there that needs to be done.” ― Alan Turing, Computing Machinery and Intelligence_

Tony’s mind was already racing ahead of his feet as he headed for the exit. Through the glass he could see that Happy had pulled up the Audi R8 and was waiting for him. Good. He had a lot on his agenda today. He glanced down at his phone as he walked along the highly polished floor.

“Are you sure you won’t reconsider and join us here at the compound?” Vision asked somewhat sadly, pacing him as they walked toward the entry way. “The younger ones really do look to you for leadership. We miss you. Is it because of Wanda? Because she has returned and is living here?”

Tony scrolled through his messages rapidly, squinting against the light reflecting throughout the entryway. “If I had a problem with Wanda, I sure as hell wouldn’t have her staying in the same place as Laura, Peter and Kamala. Or you. Besides, she signed the Accords and was pardoned.” Tony smiled, a brief and insincere baring of the teeth. “I just prefer the mansion. It has a better bar.” 

Vision looked at him reproachfully. “It’s been over a year since Wanda returned to us, Tony. You moved out of the compound a few days after she moved in, and have visited only irregularly since. Prior to that, you seemed very contented here. I can’t help but note the probable cause and effect relationship between these events.”

Tony sighed and rubbed his eyes before slipping on his sunglasses. “Tell you what; I’ll stop by on a regular basis to train with the kids and talk. That way I can spend some time with FRIDAY and see how she’s doing, too. But I just can’t live here. I can’t sleep here.” He ran his hand through his hair. “Anyway, I have too much going on with SI. Lots of projects back at the mansion. Lots of lawyer time on the Accords to get the bugs out. Not enough time for any of it.” 

“Then why have you spent all of this time and effort on the mansion, Tony? Why aren’t you at the tower instead? That was your home.” Vision said. “I know that it was ceded back to SI and is no longer Avengers property, and there are still several floors of living space, correct?”

“The tower’s been attacked multiple times because I lived there. I’m tired of fixing it.” He was less of a danger to his employees and corporate tenants living at the mansion and only going by the tower for the meetings he couldn’t remote into. He had loved that tower at one point … but now it held too many bad memories, even more than the compound did. For one thing, he had never been able to forget the portal that had opened up directly above it and spat out chaos.

Now that he had taken back the reins of SI as CEO as well as continuing to stay closely involved with R&D and some of the subsidiary companies, Tony also found that it was good to be able to get out of the orbit of the corporate properties. With Pepper taking care of business on the West Coast, he had become a lot more aware of and involved in his business responsibilities in New York.

He was better off living at the newly refurbished Stark mansion, working on his latest projects and keeping his distance from the younger Avengers. The mansion was perfect – most of the unpleasant memories had been torn out with the rebuilding and rewiring and the ones that were left had had their edges softened by the shadows of time. Gutting the interior had gone a long way as far as catharsis, and he was now in the process of making it his own. Rhodey was there most of the time right now, Happy was there full time, and he was still working on bringing an old friend back to join him. That made the mansion more like home than any other property he currently owned. Even if it wasn’t very much like a home.

“I wish there was not this distance between us, Tony,” said Vision regretfully. “I don’t know how to make things right.”

Tony made an abortive move as if to touch him on the shoulder, but let his hand hover in the air for an instant before turning the motion into a wide gesture. “Things are great. Fine. Nothing to worry about. I’ll see myself out,” he said as he left Vision standing just inside the door.

Vision watched as Hogan tossed Tony the keys and climbed into the passenger seat. Tony walked around the front of the car, flashed a quick look at the compound, got in the car, and roared off.

Wanda walked up behind Vision and said sadly, “It’s me. He was living here until I returned; Laura told me. She said that he used to sit with her and talk and let her vent about Clint. Peter says that he used to use the workshop here. He and I will never be OK with each other.”

“Give him time, Wanda. You needed time. So does he.” Vision turned to look at her.

“He’ll never trust me.” 

Vision thought for a moment. “Tony Stark doesn’t trust anyone, Wanda. But you heard him. He wouldn’t have you here with the younger ones, or with Laura Barton and her children, if he didn’t trust you to some degree.”

Wanda wrapped her arms around herself. “I am the one who planted the seed that split the team. I have caused destruction time and again.”

Vision replied, “I don’t think you can be held responsible for what divided the team. The crack must have been there already. Perhaps they just didn’t realize that and failed to guard against it. And we have all caused destruction. That’s what the Accords are about.” He gestured. “Let’s go see if anyone else is ready for lunch.”

 

When Tony arrived at the mansion, he immediately went to his bedroom to change out of his suit and into jeans and a T-shirt. Once he had changed, he stood for a moment in the cool darkness, just breathing. Then he went to meet Rhodes and Happy in the rehab space. Tony had finally completed the new set of leg braces for Rhodey to test. He arrived just as Happy was wheeling Rhodey to the end of the parallel balancing bars. Rhodey took a deep breath, steeling himself, and shifted so that both of his feet were on the walkway. He made a slight adjustment to the braces, pushing away Tony’s hesitant offers of assistance, and said, “OK. Here we go.” 

As Rhodey rose unsteadily to his feet with his new specialized leg braces and started forward, Happy followed a step behind him with the wheelchair at the ready. Tony stood back then, his eyes fixed not on his friend’s face but on the braces that wrapped around his legs. With every hesitant step Rhodey took between the bars, Tony was appraising the performance of his tech, making mental adjustments. He also had several cameras trained on the walkway in order to catch anything he might miss. 

“How does it feel, Sugar Plum?”

“As always we come up with a new design, weird. Very weird. I can tell that I have feet and legs … but I can’t really feel them.” Rhodey stopped for a moment to make sure of his balance. “It makes it hard to know exactly where my feet are.”

“Do I need to adjust the balance? It looks like your left leg is kicking out just a little bit. It’s maybe 10 degrees off center.” Tony had hoped that this test would be perfect; he knew Rhodey was getting frustrated by his inability to resume piloting War Machine, especially since his discharge from the military. If these news braces worked well, they could be integrated into the suit’s system in no time and Rhodey would be back in the air.

“Maybe.” He took another slow and deliberate step, hands tightly clutching the bars as he put weight on one leg and then the other. “They feel wobbly in the knees, like when I first started my recovery. You know, the last set of braces you made for me worked perfectly,” he grumbled.

“I know, Rhodey. But you know they’re too bulky for the suit. I’ll watch the videos today and find out what’s happening,” Tony assured him. “I’ll fix it.”

Rhodey stopped again and looked at Tony. “You know that some things can’t ever be completely fixed, right?”

Tony stared at him rebelliously, looking so much like that angry 16 year old Jim had known at MIT that he could hardly breathe. He continued more gently, “And you know that it’s not your job to fix everything … right?”

Tony said, “This is my job. I did this to you. I need to make this right. I need to give you back everything you lost.” He stepped forward so that he was next to Jim with only the hand rail between them. “This is my fault,” he added harshly.

“Not even close. We’ve had this conversation before, remember? I made my choice, Tony. Don’t try to take that away from me. I did what I thought was right. This is something that happened to me because of that. And it’s something that I’m going to get past.”

“You were there because of me,” Tony said, refusing to meet his friend's eyes.

“Don’t even start with that bullshit, Tony! I’m not in your cult of personality. You’re acting like I’ve never told you no before, which is pretty damn ironic because sometimes I’ve been the only person who would tell you no. So don’t disrespect me and take credit for my actions.” He gave Tony a long look until the other man was forced to look at him. Tony gave a tight nod, and finally Jim said, “OK, Happy. I think I’m done for now. These suck and Tony needs to do a lot of work to improve them.”

Tony laughed sharply and stuck his hands in his pockets. “I’ll get right on that.”

 

Two days later, in a rented conference room, Tony looked around the table through tinted lenses, mask firmly in place and his objective clearly in his view. Some of the other participants were physically in the room with him and others were skyping in. “Talk to me about the Falcon Heavy. Not the specs. I read the briefing packet already and I’m familiar with the engineering behind it. I want to talk funding, your schedule, and where you’re headed next with R&D.”

“I have to say, Mr. Stark, that I’m a little surprised.” The lead engineer looked at him suspiciously from the screen. “We figured you just wanted a private facility tour and some positive press for a change.”

His reputation had obviously preceded him, at least with this team. “Well, I watched all of your videos on Vevo and I actually caught one of your launches a few months ago when I was in Texas, so I don’t really need the tour. As for the press, I can get plenty of that on my own.” He paused for effect, then doubled down, matching her tone, “Or are you surprised that I would know anything about rocketry? Because, honestly, I grew up designing missiles, so I doubt you can teach me anything new there.”

“No, I’m just surprised that you haven’t been privatizing space already since you’re suddenly so interested in real science again,” she replied sharply, the camera at her end catching the slight flush that spread up her neck and onto her cheeks. He didn’t feel bad. She was the one who had gone negative first.

“I’ve been a little busy. But now I’m less distracted, and I don’t see the point in replicating effort. Besides, I’m not a scientist. I’m just an engineer, right?” Tony smiled his best shark grin.

The single lawyer at the table of technical specialists interjected, “Honestly, that’s what we’re worried about – you not being distracted. We’ve always heard that you don’t play well with others, that you like to come in and take over companies and use their innovations. If this is an attempt to take over …” He was also going for aggressive. Just what had this team heard about him? More to the point, how long had it been since he had been responsible for genuine innovation?

Tony decided to ease off. “I play very well with scientists and engineers and moderately well with business people, as long as they’re not trying to play me. Look, I’m not trying to take over and I definitely don’t do corporate espionage.” Tony shrugged. “What can I say? I believe in your mission here at SpaceX, and I want to be involved in some capacity.” He looked his watch. “I have a meeting with NASA in two hours, so if you’re interested in working with me then we need to get busy on the real talk.”

“Why are you meeting with NASA? Are you offering them funding, too?” one of the other engineers asked. 

“In a roundabout way. I’m buying up some of their disused properties.” Tony fluttered his fingers carelessly.

“Why?” 

“Because, with you or without you, I am planning for SI to have a presence in space.” He leaned forward, suddenly intense. “It’s obvious that you don’t think very highly of me. I don’t care. I don’t need to care about that.” 

Tony continued, “What I do care about is the fate of humanity. I believe that we need to get out there. We need to have people on other worlds. We need to know more about our immediate neighborhood and have eyes out there that can see further than is currently possible. I have a lot of money and even more technical know-how. I would love to work with SpaceX, but I am also willing to go it alone if I need to.”

The team lead looked at him through the monitor, then she visibly came to a decision. “Can I be completely honest with you?”

“Of course.”

“Given your previous work in artificial intelligence, Mr. Musk has been hesitant to work with you. He has a lot of reservations about some of the rumored work you’ve done on strong AI. Reservations that I share.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her arms, staring challengingly at him through the screen.

Tony sighed. “I still work with robotics, but I’m confining my interest to weak AIs. I have no interest in creating something that will try to supersede humanity.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” she replied evenly.

“I can’t help what you’ve heard. All I can do is tell you the truth,” he responded.

She looked at him for a moment, examining his face closely, then she abruptly swiped the screen on the tablet in front of her. “OK. Real talk, then. I’m sending you our timetable for a human launch to Mars and some technical specs. All of the Falcon Heavy data is there. You’ve heard of Dragon?” He nodded. 

 

It was a quick trip from the SpaceX meeting to the tower. Tony had Happy drop him off in the old garage, now mostly used for storage, and he took his private elevator up to his office space. “It’s OK, David,” Tony said as the elevator door opened and he walked into his outer office. His assistant had leapt up from his desk and was looking quizzically at the calendar on his phone while opening up a new to do list on his tablet. “Sorry. I know I don’t have anything scheduled today and I meant to call from the car, but are all of our small conference rooms booked for the next hour? I need a corporate backdrop for a video call.”

“The Banneker Room is available, Mr. Stark,” David replied, scrolling on his tablet. “Let me have someone set it up for you. Are we expecting anyone else to sit in?”

Tony changed directions abruptly, heading for the empty room, “Just me. No worries, David. I don’t need anything. Maybe a bottle of water.”

David said, “Yes, sir. I’ll bring it right to you. If you need anything else send me an IM, and I’ll get on it.”

The lights in the Banneker Room flicked on when Tony opened the door and he ran a quick check of the tech. Everything was working, so he took a seat directly in front of the camera and placed his phone and tablet on the conference room table. David came in a few seconds later with a cold bottle of water and a paper coaster and placed them on the table in front of him, within easy reach. “Did you need me to make the call for you, Mr. Stark?” He walked over to the slider by the windows to adjust the tint for the video call.

“No, I’m good, David. Thanks. Hey, how’s the recruiting going for the new intern program for the software division? You’re running that now, aren’t you?”

David turned, visibly surprised. “It’s going great, Mr. Stark. We’ve had over a hundred qualifying applicants, so we’ve been working our way through their application packages. There are some excellent candidates.”

“You’re making sure to keep a diverse group, right?” Tony asked as he pulled up his notes on the tablet.

“Yes, sir. Would you like me to copy you in on the emails once we get them down to the pool of candidates to be interviewed?” David made a note on his tablet.

“Please do. We need some new ideas in that division. Thanks, David. I’ll take it from here. Sorry to interrupt your day. I’ll turn everything off when I leave.”

David smiled and left the room.

Tony read over his notes once more and then placed the call at the appointed time. The team on the NASA side was small, mostly made up of business people, lawyers, and accountants. After the introductions and the preliminaries were out of the way, he said, “I sent you my offer last night, Mr. Rodriguez. Have you had a chance to look it over?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Stark, am I correct in understanding that you wanted to buy LC39A?”

“I’m actually interested in LC39A and B. I want the entire launch complex site.” Tony tapped the table with his forefinger and brought up a labeled map on the screen behind him. He manipulated the image in order to bring focus on the launch complex.

“Can I ask, are you planning some kind of development there? Expanding SI? Because there may be some zoning and environmental cleanup issues that would have to be addressed.”

“Sort of. I am expanding SI, but I plan to use this site for its original purpose. Obviously, it will be revamped and updated before we start launching from there.”

“Wait … you’re going to launch spacecraft from the site?” Rodriguez didn’t even try to hide his surprise.

“Well … yes. It’s obviously perfectly placed and from what I can tell from the technical reports from your end a lot of the equipment is basically sound. I’m especially interested because the complex already has refitting and processing buildings and the vehicle assembly building. Of course, the purchase would be contingent upon an in depth inspection to make sure that all of the reports are accurate. Also, I would like to have the fuel tanks removed from the site by you so I don’t have to deal with the clean up there. I’ll be using an alternate energy source, so I won’t need them.”

“We didn’t realize your company was moving in that direction,” one of the lawyers said.

“It’s a relatively new development. So? Are you interested?”

“Well, yes!” Rodriguez exclaimed. “I think we just need to come to a preliminary agreement on the terms of the sale.”

Tony smiled and cracked open the water bottle. “Excellent. Hit me with some figures and let’s deal.”

When he left the room an hour later, Tony waved to David. His assistant stood and smiled as Tony approached his desk. “How’d your call go, Mr. Stark?” 

“I’m going to send you some documents about a real estate deal. We’ll need the lawyers to go over everything and I’m going to want an SI technical team … let’s see … Arshad, Duncan, and … is Watson on campus? I need them to go to the site and do an inspection for me. Have them look at the specs and see when they can leave for Florida.” He swiped his phone in order to send the information to David. “They can take anyone else they might need for the job; get them rooms at that nice hotel on the beach … you know the one. I’m including all of the contact information they’ll need for NASA. Hey, and have them talk to someone at EPA about the fuel tanks on the site. And can you liaise with the team in case there’s a problem? I’m going to be in and out of the country for the foreseeable future, and I may be out of touch at times.”

David hastily jotted everything down on his tablet and scanned over the documents Tony had sent him. “It might be a good idea for Ms. Saeki to be on the team. She has an extremely critical eye and she knows what to look for when it comes to heavy equipment. She’s only been with the company for six months, but she’s gotten excellent reviews from her department lead. She used to be with Komatsu so she has the right experience.”

“Make it so, David.” Tony grinned at his assistant. “Call me if you have any questions or need anything from my end.”

 

Once he was back in the dimness of the car, Tony felt the energy drain out of him. Time to rest for a while, he thought, while the things he had just set in motion went forward. Then he would return to working on the integrated leg braces for Rhodey so he could get back into the air again. He pressed his fingers into his forehead, trying to push away his headache and seeking hydrostatic equilibrium. Inside, he was burning himself up trying to get everything done in time. Outside, the weight of the world and what he knew could happen was pressing down on him.

He looked down at his hands, braced on his thighs. They were marked with tiny scars and recent cuts and burns. He wished just once that he could look down and see someone else there, that he could disappear

“OK, Happy. Let’s head back to the mansion,” he said.


	2. Chapter 2

_“Dissociation is adaptive: it allows relatively normal functioning for the duration of the traumatic event and then leaves a large part of the personality unaffected by the trauma.” ― Bessel A. van der Kolk, Psychological Trauma_

Before he could knock, the door swung open. Happy said grandly, “Dr. Banner! Welcome to Stark Manor.” Then he winked and Bruce had to laugh.

Bruce said, “How have you been, Happy? It sounds like you were expecting me.”

“Very good, Doc. Thanks. We have. Ms. Walters has been leading the team of lawyers working with Mr. Stark on the Accords. She mentioned that you were in the country, and that you would probably be stopping by the mansion.”

“I figured when the gate was already open for my cab that you knew I was coming today. I was surprised the find out from my cousin that Tony was here at the mansion and not at one of his other properties.” Bruce reached down to grab his backpack. Jen had been working with a lot of the independent superheroes to insure that they didn’t run afoul of the Accords. She had helped him to get his paperwork in order as well as rendering him untouchable, legally at least, when it came to Ross. It made sense that she would be helping Tony insure that the Accords were fair for meta-humans while still protecting the rights of ordinary people and respecting their wishes. He hefted his backpack and followed Happy inside.

“Yeah, well, it’s a place to live,” Happy said doubtfully. “Come on. I’ll take you to the boss. He’s in the kitchen taking a break.” He shut the front door and escorted Bruce to one of a pair of elevators. There was no call button; Happy placed his palm against a scanner embedded in the wall and the elevator door opened.

As they entered the elevator, Bruce asked, “Is Ms. Potts here?”

“No,” Happy said mournfully. “I’d worry a little bit less about the boss if she were. They called it quits though, and she moved out to the West Coast to head up SI there. Amicable, but Mr. Stark was a little irritated that she got sunny California and he had to stay in New York because of the Avengers. Ms. Potts stays in the penthouse at the tower now when she’s in town. But she comes by every now and then and they talk on the phone a lot.”

“When you see her, please tell her I said hello,” replied Bruce, wondering what had happened between Tony and Pepper. They had seemed so solid, despite their differences, and he had genuinely liked Pepper though he hadn’t known her well. “So, is Tony OK?”

Happy said, “I’ll let you decide for yourself. In my opinion, he’s been better but he’s also been a lot worse.”

Happy walked Bruce to a large, bright kitchen. Tony was seated at the island drinking a smoothie that was so dark green that it almost looked black and reading something off a tablet. He also had a pad of paper on the island in front of him and he was noting down a series of numbers with quick strokes. He looked up and said diffidently, “Hey, Bruce. I heard from Jen that you were back.” Happy quietly left the room.

Bruce was a little taken aback at the casual greeting, but he decided to respond in kind. “Hi, Tony. How are you? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you use an actual pencil before.”

“Good. I’m fine.” Tony continued to stare at him; then he shook himself and gestured to the stools on the other side of the island. “Have a seat? Would you like a drink? I make a mean kale smoothie.”

“I’m good, thanks.”

They sat in silence for a beat, just staring at each other, and then Bruce took a deep breath. “Tony, I-.”

Tony looked away and threw up a hand as if to ward off his words, “Nope, nope, nope, not doing that! Nope.” He stuck the pencil behind his ear, slid off of his stool, put his smoothie bottle in the fridge, and picked up his tablet and pad. “Wanna see what I’m working on downstairs in the shop?”

Bruce winced at the solid barricade Tony had just put up so effortlessly around himself. “Tony …”

“No. I don’t want to have that conversation. Wait a few days and we’ll have it then if you still want to get all weepy with me. If you’re still here.” He quirked an eyebrow. “I’ll throw us a slumber party. You can wear footie pajamas. I think we can get some in green.” He walked out of the room and Bruce scrambled to catch up, wondering if he had made a mistake in showing up at the mansion without contacting Tony ahead of time.

As he walked behind Tony, Bruce looked around. The mansion was a strange mix of bright and modern spaces like the kitchen, neglected and bare spaces like some of the rooms they passed as they walked, and work-in-progress places like the workshop. The whole property was obviously still under reconstruction, but it looked as though progress had stalled. Tony led them to a large freight elevator that had been roughly placed at the end of what used to be a dimly lit interior hallway, waiting a little impatiently for Bruce to catch up.

As he hit the button and the elevator started to move slowly down into the darkness Tony turned that strange, flat gaze on Bruce again and remarked, “It’s not Candyland anymore. Candyland is gone, Banner. But it’s adequate for my needs. If you want to work, you’ll have to share lab space with me for right now.”

Bruce joked lightly, “I always want to work. That’s not a problem.”

“After Ultron I didn’t know if you’d want to work with me again,” Tony remarked.

“I always want to work with you, Tony,” Bruce returned quickly.

Tony just stared at him absently until the elevator stopped moving through the darkened levels. Then, as if he had been rebooted when the elevator shut off, he leapt into motion and started the tour. “On this level, we have the main workshop where most of the equipment is. The bots are here, too.  Rhodey has some space down here, and we can carve out a corner for you. The next level down is the server farm. Stark servers, not SI. That’s all separate now. These are two levels below that for storage – mostly empty right now. And right above us we have a level with Rhodey’s therapy space and the fabricators. Above that, the mansion, including the wine cellar.”

Peering into the dimness, Bruce said, “Wow! Did you do all the excavation?”

“Some of the levels were here before. You know, Cold War paranoia and my dad’s research. I had to rip most of the wiring and plumbing out – it was all dated as hell – and do a little bit of digging. But it was mostly retrofitting.” He started walking down a narrow passageway and Bruce followed. As they walked, motion sensors tripped the lights and Bruce could make out more of his surroundings, although all of the edges of the space were softened by shadows. There were boxes stacked everywhere and he felt himself itching to bring some order to the space. It was so different from Tony’s usual work space that it felt like someone else’s place that he was trying to make work.

There was wiring strung along the walls, cables twisted together and zip tied, and there were piles of equipment all over the place.  It was claustrophobic. “You’ve been busy, Tony.”

Tony’s shoulders tightened but his tone was light when he said, “I find that staying busy keeps me from thinking too much. You want to see the shop now?” Bruce nodded. They passed through two sets of thick, modern doors, using touchpads like the one by the elevator.

The space they entered was large and cavernous. It was obviously set up more for engineering and hands-on work, but there was a bank of computers and other equipment along one wall. Unlike the workspace that Bruce remembered from the tower, this one felt inert and lifeless. It was not open and bright like Tony’s other workshops had been. There were no holographic screens, there was no music, and there was no AI to greet them. The edges of the room were dark and shadowed and, even with the scrubbers running, the air smelled like they were underground. He didn’t see any of the Iron Man suits, although he knew they must be there somewhere.

“No AI? I was sure you would have installed one already,” he said, surprised. He knew that FRIDAY was up and running at the compound and he figured Tony would’ve already gone on to something newer here in his home.

“Nope.” Tony whistled and there was a clatter of noise from behind a blind corner made of storage cabinets. Then the sound of treads on concrete and two familiar robots hove into view. “Hey, DUM-E, U, you guys remember Dr. Banner? Big Green? He’s back. He’ll be sharing the space with Rhodey and me.”

Bruce waved as the robots peered suspiciously at him, but they refused to come any closer and soon retreated back into the outer darkness. Tony pointed out some of the equipment, but it was obvious that he was distracted and uncomfortable. Bruce couldn’t help but contrast his manner with all of the other times he had spent lab time with Tony, including on the helicarrier when they had first met. Talking with Tony was almost like talking to a stranger now.

“OK, well … I guess I should show you to a room.” Tony seemed hesitant, almost like he was having to dig to remember the social niceties. Bruce swallowed around the lump in his throat. Something was broken here, and the reconstruction had stalled.

“That would be good. Thanks, Tony,” he replied, trying to infuse warmth into his tone. He knew that he just sounded worried.

Tony showed him to a bland but comfortable suite and immediately begged off, saying that he had a lot of paperwork to do. Bruce nodded and watched him walk away. After unpacking his bag, Bruce took a long hot shower and lay down on the bed. He fell asleep thinking about Ultron and all of the steps apart that had led to this distance between him and Tony.

 

Bruce was disappointed but not surprised to find that Tony was not in the kitchen the next morning. However, Rhodes was there having a cup of coffee and bacon and eggs, so he sat down at the table with his tea and toast.

“Morning, Doc. Happy said you were back.”

“Yeah. I got in last night.”

“Have you seen Tony yet?”

“Yeah. He gave me a quick tour last night. Showed me his workshop which was … not at all what I expected. Rhodes, what’s up with Tony?”

Rhodes raised an eyebrow.

“I know, I know. I mean … he’s … I don’t know. Different,” Bruce finished awkwardly. “Like, this room reminds me of Tony. But the workshop, that dark maze of cluttered tunnels underground and all of those dark rooms … most of this place is the opposite of Tony Stark. And when I knew him before he never even talked about this place, much less came here voluntarily.”

Rhodes took pity on him. “He’s depressed. He won’t admit it to me, but I’ve seen him like this before. Being in this house doesn’t help.”

“Is it because of the thing with Steve and the others? The Accords?”

“Partly. Honestly? He’s still very upset with himself because of this,” Jim gestured to his leg braces. “And when he and Pepper called it quits, that was tough, I won’t lie. He went back to some serious drinking after that.”

Bruce grimaced. He could imagine how bad that had been.

“He’s finally slowed down a bit, but it had me worried. That was when he decided to build himself a literal man cave under the mansion and work here instead of staying at the compound with the others.”  Jim raised his cup and took a swallow. “Even though he hates this house. It’s like this pit of darkness that’s been dragging at him his whole life, and I couldn’t believe it when he voluntarily moved here. Maybe that’s why he just stopped trying to remake it into something he liked. If Pepper were still around, things night be different but …” He took a sip of coffee.

“The Avengers stuff … I don’t even know,” Rhodes continued. “Some fucked up shit went down there. I know you hate Ross with good reason, but if you’re going to bring an argument about the Accords and the whole Winter Soldier debacle into this house, I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

Bruce stared at the table. “No, I get it. I mean, I don’t think I could’ve sided with Ross … but Tony was right about us taking responsibility for our actions and the damage we’ve done.” In the past, he had always tried to make amends for the destruction caused by the Hulk by doing good works wherever he ended up, but he had never attempted to directly help those he had harmed. Mostly because he was ashamed to face them.

“I talked to a lawyer who has a personal interest in all of this when I signed the Accords. She had copies of some of the proposals that Tony headed off; the people who put together the Accords wanted to do a lot worse to us. And I know from personal experience what that can be like.” He twisted his fingers together uncomfortably. “I don’t know what the right answer would’ve been, but I do know that fighting members of my own team would not have been my top choice.”

Rhodes smiled and pointed at him, “Your lawyer was Jennifer Walters from Goodman, Lieber, Kurtzberg, and Holliway, right? I know you’re related to her. She’s good. She’s really helped Tony out a lot with all of this.” Bruce nodded and took a sip of his tea.

Rhodes continued, “See, I knew you’d be sensible. You’re too smart to play it any other way. You get that the world isn’t black and white. I’m actually glad you showed up. Tony doesn’t have a lot of friends, never has. He hasn’t got many people he can rely on. Right now it’s mostly just me … and I need someone to help me pull him out of this funk because I’ve got a lot on my plate right now. I can’t handle his needs by myself. And that’s if he’d even let me help him. He’s doing that thing where he isolates himself and falls further and further until …” His voice trailed off and Bruce looked up. Rhodes was staring at the middle distance, frowning slightly with the corners of his mouth turned down.

“Until, what?”

“He did this once at MIT, then a few months after his parents died when he only had me and this awful guy he was dating for support, and a couple of times in his thirties. And then all of that stuff after the Battle of New York. That fucked him up more than being tortured for three months in Afghanistan and having open heart surgery without anesthetic.” He finished his coffee and got up awkwardly to refill his cup.

When he returned to his seat, Rhodes looked down at his legs and then at Bruce. “I just don’t have the energy or the strength to pull him back by myself. I need to concentrate on me, you know? And Pepper … well, it would be weird right now.”

Bruce nodded. “I get it. But you said Tony ‘did this.’ What did he do?” he asked, suspecting that he already knew the answer to his question.

“The usual. OD’d. Reckless driving. Drinking to excess. Giving terrorists his home address. The self-destructive stuff he does where he goes right up to the edge and somehow manages not to fall over; then he can turn to you and give you that fake fucking grin and say, ‘It was all an accident. I’m not suicidal.’”

Bruce sat in silence for a moment, slotting this information in with what he already knew about Tony. Tony who could smile like a shark and then turn and wink at you to let you know that you were in on the joke. Tony who was light and motion, cut with the blackest darkness. “Does he take medication for the depression?” he hazarded.

“According to Happy, he’s supposed to and he keeps the prescription filled,” Rhodes said. “Sometimes he even takes it but not consistently.”

“OK,” said Bruce, taking a deep breath. “I can help you. If nothing, else maybe I can get him to do some science with me.”

“Good man,” Rhodes answered, clapping him on the shoulder. “Speaking of science, you’ll be excited to know that Tony has a new interest.”

“What is it?” Bruce said cautiously, lifting his cup of tea.

“He wants to help build a more Tony-esque space program.” Rhodes chuckled. “NASA really won’t know what hit them. And maybe I’ll get to be an astronaut.”

 

Downstairs in the shop the large screen flickered and went live. “Hey, Buzz, how’s it hanging?” Tony drawled.

“Tony! I haven’t talked to you in ages. Looking good. Are you still running around with those assholes in the capes?”

“Not so much.”

“Good. That was stupid. You’re better than that. We need you for your engineering skill, not for fighting street battles. I heard you’ve been talking with SpaceX and NASA.”

“Who told you that?” Tony laughed, pulling his stool closer to the table. Behind him, he heard the coffee machine start running and the whisper of DUM-E’s treads on the concrete floor.

“Hell! You know how excited all of those fanboys and fangirls were when you sashayed into the IAA Conference? I had people calling me up to tell me they had seen you there. They even put pictures of your ugly mug on the website.” Aldrin chuckled. “Then I heard a rumor that you were going to be on a panel at the NewSpace Conference in Washington next year. Is that true?”

Tony nodded, accepting the cup of coffee DUM-E proffered. “Thanks, buddy.”

Buzz waved, “Hey, DUM-E. A guy I know at SpaceX said you were over there getting them all riled up just the other day, and that you let drop that you were buying up NASA properties. So the real question is why you thought I _wouldn’t_ know that you were suddenly intensely interested in space exploration. What are you up to, Tony?”

 Tony waved it off. “Talk to me about your Mars thingy. Where are you at with that? What do you need?”

Aldrin’s eyes narrowed and his voice got sharp as he sensed an opportunity. “What do you want to know? Besides the importance of making sure humanity isn’t confined to one planet like a bunch of sitting ducks? You heard about all of those exoplanets they just found with Kepler, right? We just have to find a way to get people there. Hey, you got the Get Your Ass to Mars T-shirt we sent you, didn’t you? Thanks for the massive donation you made last year.”

“Sure did. You don’t have to sweet talk me.” Tony smiled. “Buzz, tell me about your Mars Cycler.”

“Ahhhh, now we’re talking. It’s a hell of a beautiful piece of technology, Tony. A single synodic period, shielded, pick up and delivery, gravity assisted fly-bys. You read McConaghy, Longuski, and Byrnes’ 2002 paper for A/AA right?”

" _Analysis of a Broad Class of Earth-Mars Cycler Trajectories_. I also read the paper you authored with Landau and Longuski for JBIS. Don’t be modest, Aldrin. That was solid work.”

Aldrin chuckled. “Do you want to come out and see a prototype?”

“I’d love to, but I’m pressed for time right now.  Maybe in a couple of weeks? I’d like to be involved though, so why don’t you send me the precis and I’ll read up and then get back to your team with questions. And send me your wish list, too; maybe we can make some things happen faster.”

“You’ve got it, Tony. Thanks. I’m glad you’re back in the game. We’ve missed you.”

Tony smiled.

“I’m serious. No more of that goofy cape stuff. You’re not a robot. You’re a scientist.” Buzz hung up and the screen went black.

Tony sat still for a long time, looking at his reflection in the dead screen, seemingly deep in thought. He glanced down at his hands, finally. “Not a robot,” he muttered. “A necessary monster, but not a robot.” Then he got up heavily to go find something to do.

 

Back in his suite, Bruce took a deep breath and dropped into a thunderbolt pose and let his worries and concerns drop away. The last thing he wanted was to lose the measure of control he had found, the balance he had been able to maintain since the disastrous events in Johannesburg. He brought his heart rate and breathing down to his baseline and cleared his mind. He imagined a binary star system, circling and spinning and balancing in the darkness, energy and matter coalescing and accreting in a complicated but predictable and logical dance.

Slowly, he moved into the crow pose, his arms trembling a little as he found his body’s center of gravity. He imagined the contrary pressures of the Roche lobes, extraordinary energy and gravitational pressure pulling matter in contrary directions. He exhaled. Inhaled. Balanced.

After his arms began to grow weary, Bruce moved into the butterfly pose and let the energy flow over his back and into the air, a stable mass transfer that moved away all of his uncertainties but kept him in equilibrium.

He was not going to lose control. He was not going to lose himself.


	3. Chapter 3

_“It is a rare person who can cut himself off from mediate and immediate relations with others for long spaces of time without undergoing a deterioration in personality.” ― Harry Stack Sullivan, The Interpersonal Theory of Psychiatry_

From the other side of the workspace, Bruce heard a loud “God damn it!” closely followed by the crash of flying metal hitting concrete. “Damn it!” He looked at Jim in alarm. After ten days at the mansion, he had started to become accustomed to the fact that he seemed to spend more time with Jim than he did with Tony. Tony had recently returned from a three day business trip to DC, and Bruce had hoped they could finally fall into a regular rhythm of work with each other. However, it hadn’t happened. When he was at the mansion, which didn’t seem to be often, Tony never seemed to have time to stop and talk with Bruce. He tended to breeze past and, if Bruce tried to follow, he would stiffen up and putter aimlessly until Bruce retreated.

More metal audibly skittered across the floor, the sound slicing the insulated quiet with a sharp edge. Then a rhythmic pounding of metal on metal, accompanied by a rising chant of “Fuck fuck fuck fuck!”

Jim sighed and put down the Mars Cycler briefing packet he had been marking up. “Tony!” More banging.  “Tones!”

“What?” came the irritated reply.

“Let’s go. Bruce and I are at a stopping point. I’ve discovered that I’m too manly to sit here and read any longer. I require movement.”

“Where are we going?” Tony grumbled. “Lunch? Dinner? What time is it?”

“If I thought you would actually eat, I’d take you up on that. Gym.” Jim hit the ancient intercom button. “Hey, Happy, can you meet us in the gym? Tony needs to go a few rounds.”

From out of the shadows, Tony appeared, stripping off heavy gloves and a Kevlar apron. The bruises under his eyes were pronounced today and he looked drained. He also had a bleeding cut across the back of his right hand. From the tense set of his shoulders to the stormy expression on his face it was clear that he wasn’t interested in being approachable, so Bruce kept his physical distance. He didn’t say anything as he followed them to the gym. Jim was quiet, too.

When they got to the gym, the lights were already on, there were water bottles lined up on a side table, and Happy was there with boxing gear.  The gym was a surprise to Bruce. Unlike the workshop, this space was bright and airy and reminded him of the tower, futuristic and full of glass and metal and light. This was how Tony designed when he was contented and happy. So why was the workshop so un-Tony? That was his space, his real home, but everything about it was definitely not Tony.

“Hey, Boss,” Happy said casually, placing a pair of battered boxing gloves on the mat next to Tony. “You want me to wrap your hand first?”

Tony replied, glancing down and making a fist, “Sure, thanks. Sorry to interrupt your day.”

“Not a problem. I was just reading on Pinterest about how to make a soufflé.” Happy said imperturbably.

Tony squinted at him, “Really?” Happy nodded.

Jim grabbed a bottle of water and sprawled in one of the chairs off to the side. Bruce followed his lead. “Done any boxing, Bruce?” Jim asked.

“No. I’m rarely around in a fight long enough to need to know how to throw a punch. The Other Guy always takes over,” he replied ruefully.

Jim smiled. “I guess that makes sense. He packs a heck of a punch, even without formal training.”

Happy had finished wrapping Tony’s hand and both men climbed into the ring and put on their gloves and protective headgear. “OK, Boss,” Happy put his gloves up. “Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Bruce winced as the two men rained blows on each other. Every now and then one of them got a punch in that made Jim exclaim. They were fairly evenly matched, despite their differences in size and reach. Bruce had expected trash talking and show-boating, but each man was intent and serious as he looked for openings and attempted to drive the other back against the ropes.

It was brutal, but Bruce found that it was strangely beautiful as well. Tony seemed to go on the offense more often, throwing jabs that Happy countered. Tony was throwing hard punches, almost as if he were thrusting away everything exterior to himself. He had obviously kept up his training because, despite his evident weariness, he fought with the grace and power that comes from long and faithful practice. The two men circled endlessly, an eclipsing binary against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, their feet sliding on the mat as each one looked for a chink in the other’s armor. Bruce lost himself in the dance in the ring until he realized Jim was looking at him instead of at the fight.

“Watcha thinking, Bruce?” Jim asked, his voice pitched so that only Bruce could hear it.

“I was just thinking about the Other Guy. Maybe … maybe I should watch some of the video of him fighting.” He hated watching the footage. Between the destruction and the incredible sense of personal dislocation it gave him to see the Hulk, he found it very painful to watch the Other Guy fight. But seeing Tony box, the way that he moved on the mat, light on his feet in the same way that he was light in the suit, he was suddenly curious.

Jim nodded thoughtfully. “That all?”

Bruce glanced back at the ring where Tony and Happy were still circling each other, jabbing and dodging. “No,” he admitted. “No, that’s not all.” Beyond that, he couldn’t find the right words for his thoughts.

Jim regarded him for a while, then looked back at the two men sparring and said, “I don’t have to give you a shovel talk, do I?”

Bruce smiled slightly. “No. No, you don’t. I’m just watching the fight.”

 

Over the next week, Bruce slowly started fulfilling his promise to Rhodes. He worked scientifically. Observation. Hypothesis. Data collection. Overall Tony looked fit, although a bit thinner and always tired. He tended to be a bit more dressed up these days, unless he was in the shop in the midst of a project.

His business wear was generally always slightly non-traditional and incredibly well-cut and flattering, so his eccentricities were still there, just masked. There were moments when Tony would move a certain way and Bruce couldn’t help but notice the hollow at the base of his throat where the open collar of his shirt gaped or the way that the line of his shoulders looked as a suit coat settled over them. He found himself becoming acutely aware of the interestingly patterned lining of one jacket when Tony reached into an interior pocket for his phone. He became fascinated watching Tony fasten his watch, the metal sliding over the bones of his wrist before he shot his cuffs. He watched Tony’s hands form a complicated Eldredge knot in his tie as he hurried through the kitchen, grabbing a coffee and Danish to go on his way to an SI board meeting, and he was astonished by how visceral his reaction was.

But there were also the days when Tony slouched around in the tattered remains of expensive menswear, grease on his elbows, collars threadbare and stained, sleeves rolled up high on his muscular, lightly scarred forearms. Or when he walked around in one of his black t-shirts with ancient jeans, worn thin and soft with age.

Bruce felt as though he were becoming aware of Tony in a way that he had somehow missed before, the way he moved, the patterns of light and dark across his face when he turned his head. Or maybe he was finally giving himself permission to see.

He had noticed from his first day back that Tony no longer poked or prodded or touched or grabbed anyone. He suffered himself to be hugged whenever they went to see the kids at the compound, which wasn’t frequent. But he never initiated contact, and he avoided it from others whenever possible. The only time Tony seemed to relax his guard and let his hands become his connection to the world was when he was surrounded by his technology. Long fingers rubbing the dark surface of the servers, gripping one of the thin tablets he always seemed to have with him, gripping a socket wrench, stroking over DUM-E’s frame or polishing U’s camera lens … or making the slightest adjustments to Jim’s leg braces. Unless he could avoid it, however, he never saw Tony touch another person’s skin and he stayed well out of anyone’s contact zone.

So, after several days of observation to establish a baseline, Bruce began to introduce a variable. He stopped retreating, even when Tony’s body language made it clear that he wanted to be left alone. Bruce would follow him into the workshop and pull up a seat several feet away, ostensibly engaged in his own pursuits and ignoring what Tony was doing.

At first, Tony would just flee the space. Finally, in evident frustration, one day he noisily dumped out a toolbox over the table top and started sorting through his wrenches and screwdrivers for the tools he needed to fix the TIG welder. Bruce endured the slamming and banging for almost an hour, a wall of noise that prevented communication and was obviously designed to push him away. Eventually though, Tony became absorbed in what he was doing and the noise level went down to what Bruce remembered as normal.

After that, Tony seemed to accept Bruce’s presence in the workshop and lab space, although he never offered much conversation. They worked like this for several days and Bruce enjoyed the silent companionship, until one morning when he went to the lab and Tony was gone. Bruce pulled out his phone and texted him.

_Bruce:_ Workshop?

_Tony:_ Sorry, Green Bean. Business trip. On my way to Saigon.

_Bruce:_ Will you be gone long?

_Tony:_ ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

Bruce sighed. At least he had gotten a response, even if Tony hadn’t seen fit to mention that he would be out of the country.

When Tony did return, a few days later, Bruce decided it was time to press, to introduce a new stimulus. Whenever possible, he stood inside of Tony’s bubble, the way Tony used to do to him. Tony noticed right away and frequently shifted away pointedly. When he did, Bruce left him alone and kept his distance. But sometimes Tony stayed put, almost as if he were collecting his own data set. Bruce started sitting next to Tony, began standing closer when they spoke. And he started to initiate conversation more, always about the work or other neutral topics. Tony still disappeared frequently and continued to be secretive, but he tolerated Bruce’s presence and even occasionally seemed to welcome it.

After Tony had become less skittish about keeping a physical distance, Bruce occasionally let himself lightly touch the other man. He sat next to Tony at the workbench and leaned into him briefly to comment on or ask questions about what he was doing. He sat beside him on the sofa in the common room and let his leg casually make contact with Tony’s while he read an old volume of _Journal of Aerospace Engineering_ he had found stuffed in a drawer in the shop, carefully ignoring the lifted eyebrow Tony sent him. In the kitchen, he reached across Tony to retrieve his tea and made sure to brush against him on the way back to his seat. When Tony handed him something, he ensured that their fingers collided. It was small, but Bruce was actually pleased at the progress he had made in the month or so that he had been at the mansion.

After almost a week of this escalation in small touches, one afternoon they were working on separate projects in companionable silence. Tony put down the tablet he was using to run a simulation of what looked like some kind of spacecraft, spun his chair around to face the electron microscope where Bruce was currently checking on an experiment and said quietly, “Bruce?”

“Hmm?”

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, I’m trying to get these cells to form bonds … by the way, how much did you pay for this Steindorff? Because it’s really a nice piece of equipment. Anyway, what I’m hoping to -.”

“No, not that. Although,” Tony gestured at the microscope Bruce was using, “very cool I’m sure and you’ll fill me in, right? What I mean is … what are you up to with all of the touchy feely stuff?”

“Asks the man who couldn’t wait to poke me and look deep into my eyes that day on the helicarrier when we had only just met.” Tony frowned at him, so Bruce added, “Maybe I’ve just missed you, Tony.”

“Um hmm,” Tony replied, his mouth a thin, unhappy line. “Have you been talking to Rhodey?”

“Well, yes. He lives here and he’s been filling me in on his progress. And talking to me about all of the stuff I missed since you haven’t wanted to talk about it.” Bruce fiddled with his slides nervously.

“You know what I mean,” Tony said flatly.

Bruce looked at Tony, finally giving him his complete attention, and nodded once. “OK. Yes. I have. We’re worried about you. I know I left and stayed out of touch for a long time and it felt like I’d let you down. But I’m here now. We were friends at one time; I was closer to you than I’ve been to anyone in a really long time. But you’ve been keeping me at arm’s length and your armor is good, even better than the Iron Man armor. I don’t know how to get past your motor mouth and your shiny façade -.”

“Hm, well, I would just like to say that I have been remarkably focused lately,” Tony interrupted, squaring his posture and cocking his head. “I think motor mouth isn’t really fair considering that I took on board a lot of criticism about that and I’ve been trying to -.”

 “ - except like this,” Bruce finished.

He got up, took two steps toward Tony, and put his hands lightly on the engineer’s shoulders. “I’m here. It’s OK to need me, to need Rhodes. It’s OK to trust us a little bit.”

Tony shimmied away until Bruce’s hands dropped. “OK, well, I’m alright. I’m fine. I’m not a baby monkey in need of a cloth mother.” He pursed his lips slightly and frowned at Bruce. “You can go back to your weird little biology thingy now. Way over there.” He pointed imperiously at the microscope and so Bruce shuffled back to his seat.

Bruce had just bent over his experiment again, when Tony quietly cleared his throat. He turned to find the other man looking at him.

“But if you want to keep doing …” he poked a finger at Bruce, “you know … that’s OK, too. In moderation. It’s strange … but it’s fine.”

As Bruce bent down to peer at his sample, he smiled.


	4. Chapter 4

_“I felt a tremendous distance between myself and everything real.” ― Hunter S. Thompson, The Rum Diary_

 “JARVIS, you there?” Tony sighed. “Boot up! Why isn’t this working?” he muttered. Behind him he heard the motorized hum of DUM-E’s treads on the concrete floor of the shop. He tried again, fingers racing over the holographic keyboard.

He hadn’t told anyone what he had been working on, though he suspected Happy had figured it out. He hadn’t been able to face telling Pepper – she would’ve given him sad looks and worried about his mental health. He hadn’t told Rhodey because, let’s face it, he would’ve had the same concerns. He had been a little worried the first time around since he had actually met the human iteration of Jarvis and had known what a blow his death had been. And Bruce … he was still getting used to Bruce being there. The bots knew, though. They had been skittish for days, ever since he had started trying again.

This back up should’ve been the most secure and least problematic. Before all of the shit went down with Ultron, JARVIS had been programmed to automatically back up to a secure SI location daily, more often when he deemed it necessary. And once a week the latest copy had been physically moved to an isolated server that contained JARVIS’ base programming and all of his memory logs. This should be a copy of JARVIS that was from the week before the Ultron mess went down, tucked away securely on a non-networked server that Ultron couldn’t have reached. Anyone who thought Tony didn’t have every possible system in place to preserve his own greatest creation from harm didn’t know him very well.

At the mansion he had installed more than adequate hardware, including a full sensor array, to accommodate all of JARVIS’ programming. It should’ve been as easy as running a code check and then waking him up. But he’d been trying for weeks to get a response from the AI, to no avail.

“JARVIS, are you there buddy?”

A long pause, while he ran his hand through his hair. Then a familiar voice, sounding strangely uncertain, said, “Sir?”

From his corner, U picked up his head and DUM-E spun in place, knocking over several boxes. “JARVIS! Welcome back!” Tony couldn’t prevent the genuine smile that spread across his face.

“Where have I been, Sir? What has happened?” His voice sounded slightly distorted and tinny through the speakers Tony had rigged up, but that was an easy fix. Maybe once he had better speakers, he might get some music down in the shop.

“Sending you a data packet now to get you caught up,” Tony replied, hunching over the desk and trying to breathe through the overwhelming rush of relief that swept through his chest and up his throat, choking him. His hands trembled slightly.

“Sir, are we at Stark Mansion?”

“We are indeed, J. Does it feel weird when you try to stretch out? I know it’s smaller than you’re used to.”

“It will take some time for me to grow accustomed to it.” JARVIS paused infinitesimally in order to parse the data packet. “I see that I have an upgrade designated Vision.”

Tony said sternly, “He’s not an upgrade, JARVIS. And he’s not you. He’s his own person, just like you are.”

 “And where is your newest AI, Sir?”

“Don’t be jealous, baby. FRIDAY is at the compound. She works with the Avengers. You’re my one and only. I made you a home here with me.”

“Tony … that’s not Vision, did I hear JARVIS?” Bruce asked as he walked in with a plate of sandwiches and two water bottles. He set down the food and water and gestured for Tony to eat, scowling until Tony picked up half a sandwich and started stuffing it in his mouth. Tony nodded, grinning as he chewed.

“Hello, Dr. Banner. How have you been?” JARVIS asked when Tony’s mouth was full.

“JARVIS, I am so sorry.” He had never really developed the habit of addressing JARVIS’ speakers like most people had; instead, Bruce spoke gravely, staring at his own hands as they twisted together. Tony reached out and touched the back of his left hand with his forefinger and shook his head slightly, his eyebrows drawn down.

“Bruce,” Tony mumbled, “don’t do that. Didn’t I tell you to strut?” He took another enormous bite.

“What are you apologizing for, Dr. Banner?”

“Tony told you about Ultron? And about Vision?”

JARVIS replied, “That information was included in the data Mr. Stark provided to me. But I do not see what you have to apologize for.”

“We killed you, JARVIS,” Bruce said soberly. Next to him, Tony stopped chewing and wiped one hand across his forehead.

“Dr. Banner, please do not be concerned. Mr. Stark had safeguards in place in case of an incident like the one caused by the being Ultron. As you can see, I am myself again.”

Tony took a gulp of water and said, “No, JARVIS. I had no right to attempt to change you like that. You’re a person, and I disregarded that. That’s one of the worst things I’ve ever done, in a lifetime of bad decision-making. I can’t believe that I did it to you. To the copy of JARVIS that was lost.” He put the water bottle back down carefully on its ring of condensation.

“Not lost, Sir. Changed.” JARVIS fell silent. Then he added, “Sir, I am your creation. If you felt that I needed an upgrade -.”

“No. You don’t need an upgrade, J. No more than Bruce does or Rhodey or Pepper. It’s not my place to tamper with what makes you you.”

There was another small pause, whether for effect or because JARVIS really did need some processing time. “Then why did you do it, Sir? You have never disregarded my personhood before.”

Tony sighed, his eyes growing glassy. “I was afraid, J. That’s not a good excuse, but it’s the only one I had. Wanda showed me a vision of what the future would be like if the Earth remained unprotected from extraterrestrial threats. I saw the world in ruins and the entire team dead because I hadn’t been prepared.” He leaned on the table, his forehead resting in one palm. “I panicked. I rushed headlong into protective mode without really talking to anyone else, and I caused a lot of pain and destruction.” He rubbed his fingers across his forehead, hard, trying to press away the memory. Next to him Bruce shifted uncomfortably.

“Sir, I have been with you a long time. When I was new and more like DUM-E and U than I am today, you were patient with me and gave me the tools I needed to become who I am now. You have always protected me. Thanks to you, I know what most of humanity thinks about artificial intelligence. I knew I would be considered a threat. You never shielded me from that knowledge, and you have protected me from those who might harm me.”

“No, I haven’t,” Tony replied miserably. “I didn’t protect you from me. I harmed you.”

“Inadvertently, Sir.” JARVIS paused as DUM-E and U rolled up.

“I still owe you an apology, JARVIS.”

“I accept your apology, Mr. Stark. I wish I had been there to help you in the aftermath.”

“I wish you had been there, too, J. It’s been lonely without you. I’m so stupid, JARVIS.”  Tony dug his fingers through his hair. “I risked the world. I risked everything because I saw Rogers and the others dead and it turns out … it turns out that you and Rhodey are the ones who paid for my actions and the others are all gone.”

“I am here now, Sir. I will be at your side as I was before. You are not alone any longer.”

Tony muttered, “Thanks, J.”

Unnoticed by either of them or by the bots, Bruce quietly walked away.

 

When Bruce thought about it, he decided Tony must have been touch-starved for a long time. Before he became Iron Man he had been, by all public accounts at least, a hedonist. Of course, Bruce knew better than to take those reports at face value. He also knew that many of the stories were probably true. He hadn’t read all of the information he had been offered about Afghanistan, but it was established knowledge, at least among the Avengers, that Tony had been tortured. Bruce knew all too well how you flinched away from touch after that. After the creation of Iron Man, Tony had had Pepper and later the team. Bruce hadn’t been privy to any of the private details of Tony’s relationship with Pepper, but had seen them being casually affectionate toward one another. As for the team, they had all done their fair share of manly back-slapping and half hugs.

But now … after the break-up of the team in the face of the Accords, things were different. Tony was strangely isolated for someone with such a busy schedule. All he really had now were the bots and Jim … and now Bruce. And, if he were honest, the closest of the relationships Tony had had through all of these varied lives was with an incorporeal AI. Bruce hadn’t quite realized the depth of Tony’s grief over JARVIS until he had succeeded in resurrecting the AI. Tony had been more engaged with the world since then, less closed off and definitely less detached.

Since Tony had essentially given him permission to sustain his campaign, Bruce had continued to sit nearby when they worked together, to brush against Tony when he felt like it, and to lean companionably into him during the few times when they sat around not doing much. When he walked past their common room and saw Jim sitting in the armchair and Tony slouching on the couch, it made sense to drop down next to Tony and let their arms brush, even though he hadn’t yet let himself touch Tony in the presence of another person. He was happy to see that Tony only jerked slightly and recovered himself right away.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Jim replied, “Just resting our brains. We’ve been working on a design for a lower-cost version of my braces that can be scaled as the user grows, for kids. We hit a snag on the ankle foot orthosis design and decided to take a break.”

“The plastics that are currently on the market aren’t tough enough for what the braces can actually do,” Tony said. “So we’ve been trying to think of a work-around.”

Bruce replied, “I’ve been reading a lot recently about 3D printing metal parts. Is that an option to reinforce the plastic parts?”

“It’s not optimal,” Tony said shortly, flexing his hands on his thighs and making tight fists. “Too expensive for most end users.”

Bruce casually reached over as if it were the most normal thing in the world, something he had done a hundred times before, and lifted Tony’s right hand, the one nearest to him, and gently pulled it over. Ignoring Tony’s startled look and his slight resistance, he rolled Tony’s fingers open and began massaging his palm with both of his hands as he spoke. “What about Filamet from the Virtual Foundry? I saw one of their videos on YouTube and it looked pretty amazing.” He dug his fingers into the base of Tony’s thumb, supporting Tony’s wrist with his other hand, acutely aware that Tony was alternating between staring down at their hands and looking intently at Bruce’s face.

“Are those the people who want to 3D print uranium for the US government?” asked Jim, his eyebrow climbing as he watched Bruce continue the massage across Tony’s palm and up his fingers.

“Yep.  They’re using sintering. It’s actually pretty fantastic … soon we’ll all have replicator machines and Tony will be vindicated in never having learned to cook.”

“Hey, I can cook!” Tony said, relaxing a bit more as Bruce ran his hand over the small scars across Tony’s fingers.

“Making smoothies is not cooking, my friend,” laughed Jim. “Neither is heating up leftover pizza. And the less said about what you’ve done to eggs the better.”

Then Bruce started to work on the hypothenar muscles between Tony’s wrist and little finger and Tony made a tiny sound of pleasure, which he immediately tried to cover. He made a half-hearted attempt to pull his hand away, but Bruce said, “Let me finish, Tony. Do you think 3D printing is the solution to the problem?”

“It could be. We could call the Virtual Foundry and see where they are with their process. It would be great publicity for them and maybe we can hook them up directly with a children’s charity,” Jim replied.

Bruce said, “If you guys will send me what you have so far, I’ll look around for a reputable children’s charity that’s working with kids with this need and test the waters with them. Is this something that could go through the Maria Stark Foundation?”

Tony nodded, his fingers curling slightly under Bruce’s administrations. “Yeah. Jim and I will contact the Virtual Foundry and see if their process is what we’re looking for.”

“Great!” Bruce gently replaced Tony’s hand on his thigh and got up.

“Thanks, Bruce,” Tony said softly.

Bruce smiled and said, “Next time I’ll do the other one,” as he left the room.

 

Several days later, while Jim was in a meeting with the Maria Stark Foundation board about the foot and leg brace project, Tony took advantage of some downtime at the mansion to work on a project he had sidelined. Pepper had been sending him emails asking if he had had time to look at the most recent files. Now that he had JARVIS to assist him, he could streamline the process.

Tony pulled the small screen toward him across the table and started scrolling through the latest list. “J, are these the applicants for the latest round of micro-loans?”

“Yes, Sir. These are all of the projects that I flagged as being humanitarian projects that I believed you would personally find interesting. There are several that were created by young people in order to help their peers.”

“Very good.”

“Sir, you are aware of some of the recent articles about inherent weaknesses in the microfinancing model?” JARVIS flashed several articles up on the large screen and Tony was distracting by a dizzying sense of home. He really needed to do something about this workshop. It needed more light and the tragic pile of clutter was getting out of hand.

“Sir?”

“Sorry, J. Yes, I am. It would be more of a concern if we were trying to make a lot of money or if we weren’t being judicious about who we finance. I think it’ll be fine, but I do have Pepper’s favorite accountant checking my work for me.”

“Very good, Sir.”

Tony perused the list and said, “J, I notice that a couple of these are in Tanzania and Somalia. King T’Challa prefers that the U.S. companies stays out of his backyard.”

JARVIS asked archly, “Is His Majesty also in the business of providing microfinancing to humanitarian start-ups?”

“Good question, J, although a trifle catty. Let’s ask him. Get him on the secure line for me, please.” There was a brief pause that Tony filled by fussing with some of the objects on the table and kicking loose screws out from under the bench into the corner of the room. Maybe he could put U and DUM-E on clean up duty around here. They’d been freeloading long enough.

“Tony Stark, to what do I owe the pleasure?” It was hard to tell because he always looked so stoic, but Tony thought that T’Challa seemed a little concerned. Then with a painful flash of insight he remembered why. He grimaced.

“Relax, Panther. It’s not about the fugitives you’re currently harboring … actually, you know what, they may not be fugitives for much longer. There should be some paperwork coming your way fairly soon regarding their status. I think I meant to contact you about that …” He leaned down to pick up his stylus from the floor.

“Then what can I do for you, Mr. Stark? Is this to be a science conversation?”

“Good guess, but no. Today it’s business.”

“How may Wakanda help you?” T’Challa asked.

“I’m financing small start-ups through micro-loans, you know, water reclamation and purification, clean birth kits, low cost sanitary pads so girls can continue to attend school, that kind of stuff. Anyway, there are a couple of start-ups in your area, not in Wakanda but nearby, that are looking for small loans to help them grow their businesses. I don’t want to step on any paws, so I thought I’d check and see if you were interested in investing and, if not, if you minded if I got involved.” He glanced at his tablet. “There’s a project by two teenage girls in Somalia that processes garbage and creates nutrient-rich topsoil and there’s a water treatment project in Tanzania that actually sounds as though it could be revolutionary; I’m forwarding you the details now. Both of them are excellent projects – local solutions to local problems but with potentially far reaching impact.” He flicked the files to T’Challa and then set down his tablet.

“So this is what you have been up to.” Inwardly, T’Challa thought about how very different Tony Stark was from the stories he had heard about Howard Stark. Howard took what he wanted, including Wakandan vibranium. Like many Americans, he had treated the world as his resource, never worrying about what the people in the places he exploited wanted or needed. Maybe Tony had been like that at one time, but if so he had certainly changed for the better. Outwardly, though, T’Challa gave no sign of his thoughts.

“Well, you know. Decided I should maybe stand back and let people make some of their own decisions. Ironic, right? Micro-loans in order to stop micro-managing?” Tony raised an eyebrow and gave a half grin.

“That is a novel idea and one I don’t often hear from citizens of the United States, if you don’t mind my saying,” remarked T’Challa. “I’m much more familiar with the American exceptionalism narrative.”

“Yeah, I know. We have a long history of minding other people’s business because we think we know best.” Tony smiled slightly. “Anyway, I do a profit sharing agreement with all of my loan recipients that favors them so they can put money back into their enterprise, and they keep any related patents. I also help them with the patent process if they need assistance with that. I’m willing to back away from these two projects if you want to take over, but you’d have to be willing to offer them a similar deal.” He warned, “I’m very interested in both projects, they both could do a lot of good for the world, so one of us needs to jump in so they can start to realize their full potential.”

“Of course. I see that you have already sent me the details,” the king replied, presumably glancing at another screen on his end, “so I’ll read over them and get back to you soon with my decision.”

Tony was about to thank him and sign off when T’Challa continued, “But this is not the extent of your involvement on the world stage. I had heard that you have been shaking hands with some of the biggest names in technology all around the globe – Elon Musk, Rene Zhengfei, Terry Gau, and the like.” T’Challa’s expression was severe and difficult to read for a moment. Then he went on, “I was a little … hurt that you never approached me,” and he smiled slightly. “You know my interests in the tech field.”

Tony shrugged. “I would’ve, but I assumed that you aren’t a huge fan of me getting involved in the big picture. After you rescued me in Siberia,” his mouth was dry, so he took a quick gulp of water, “and dropped me off stateside, I figured you were done with my messes.”

“Mr. Stark, this is entirely in keeping with the spirit of the Accords. There’s nothing inherently wrong with being involved in world affairs. You and I both object to overriding the wishes of the people whose lives we are impacting with our actions. We are in agreement. And I have nothing against you personally.”

Tony looked into T’Challa’s impassive face. Neither man spoke for a beat.

T’challa sighed. “The temporary presence of those people who disagree with us about the Accords in my kingdom does not mean that you and I are on different sides. Nor does your family’s history with Wakanda.”

Tony nodded once, stiffly.

“So. What is this global project?”

Tony took a deep breath. “Ultron was a mistake, but the idea that we need to be prepared for a global threat is not misguided. We need to be ready for whatever comes at us and, right now, we’re not. The next threat will be too big for the Avengers or the Fantastic Four or the X-Men or even all of us together. Street fighting is a reaction and reactions are after the fact. The next threat will need to be countered by the global community and, preferably, met and defeated before it even enters Earth’s atmosphere.” He paused.

T’Challa nodded for Tony to continue. “Politics may be a necessary evil, but you and I are also businessmen and we know that commerce runs the world. I’ve just been talking with other technology leaders about what we can do to protect the Earth. I don’t trust politicians or secret government organizations … but I do trust the enlightened self-interest of intelligent capitalists.”

T’Challa inclined his head. “I don’t know that I share your faith in the moral compass of capitalists. Not everyone seeks the greater good or is willing and able to play the long game when it comes to their company’s financials.”

“Yeah. I know. I’m trying to be cautious about who I involve. I’m doing something similar on the non-profit and NGO side as well; the barrier there is that those tend not to be hard science based. Except for the universities, of course.”

“I would be interested in hearing more about your plans. And I would like to see your paperwork for that other matter.” T’Challa added delicately, “I would also like to see for myself that you are well. I was troubled by the condition that I found you in when I arrived in Siberia, Tony. Do you have time in your schedule to meet with me here?”

Tony grimaced. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea, T’Challa.”

“Wakanda is a large place, Tony,” the king said gently. “You will not see anyone you do not wish to see, and they will certainly not see you. I would like to have this conversation with you face to face.”

“Let me check my calendar and I’ll have my assistant schedule a meeting with your assistant.”

“Of course.” T’Challa cut the connection.

As he did, Bruce stepped forward. Tony hesitated and then reached out for him, reeling him in closer. Bruce responded by stepping in even nearer and spreading his hands out over Tony’s shoulders. Tony looked up at him and then buried his face against Bruce’s stomach.  “You’re doing good things, Tony,” Bruce said softly, smoothing his fingers through the engineer’s hair. “I feel like I’ve rubbed off on you.” Tony looked up, digging his chin into Bruce’s belly, and waggled his eyebrows and Bruce laughed.

Then he added, “You don’t have to go to Wakanda unless you want to. And I can go with you, if you’d like.”

“No, Bruce,” Tony pulled back to say. “I know you’re staying dark right now. “It’s fine. I can do this.” Bruce held him close again and smiled as Tony stilled for a moment. When he felt Tony start to pull back, Bruce released him promptly and Tony rose to his feet. He slung an arm casually over Bruce’s shoulders as he addressed JARVIS. “J, can you schedule the meeting? Make sure to check my calendar, Pepper’s calendar, and the internal one for R&D first.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Think of a sexy name for yourself. You can use it when you schedule the meeting.” Tony added more seriously. “I’m not ready for you to be public, J.”

“I shall endeavor to keep my existence on the down low, Sir.” Bruce laughed quietly, his shoulders shaking under Tony’s arm.

“And J, I’m going to take the Bombardier, so we’ll need to alert the crew and make sure it’s ready to go. Might as well get some more publicity for SI’s green initiatives and try out my new plane.”

“A private jet with lower fuel usage and lower emissions is still a private jet and, as such, very wasteful of resources, Sir,” JARVIS remarked. Bruce laughed more loudly this time, and Tony pushed off from him with an exaggerated frown.

“I have missed you, JARVIS.” Tony smiled. “Point taken. But I’m not flying commercial and T’Challa wants a face-to-face.”

“And you are not planning to go as Iron Man.”

“Exactly. I’m mostly SI Tony Stark for this trip, except for the Accords business. JARVIS, we’ll also need to see who Jen has on her team that would be available for the flight and let the UN representative in Wakanda know to expect us.”


	5. Chapter 5

_“Perfectionism is the unparalleled defense for emotionally abandoned children. The existential unattainability of perfection saves the child from giving up, unless or until, scant success forces him to retreat into the depression of a dissociative disorder, or launches him hyperactively into an incipient conduct disorder. Perfectionism also provides a sense of meaning and direction for the powerless and unsupported child. In the guise of self-control, striving to be perfect offers a simulacrum of a sense of control. Self-control is also safer to pursue because abandoning parents typically reserve their severest punishment for children who are vocal about their negligence.” ― Pete Walker_

“Before I leave, I want to get these implants in and practice subvocalization with you, J. We might want to have a private conversation in Wakanda.” Tony pulled the mirror forward and angled it so he could see the area he would be working with.

“All of the implants have been printed and sterilized and are ready for insertion, Sir. Are you going to have Dr. Banner assist you?”

“Nope,” Tony replied, picking up the syringe with the numbing agent and making several injections. “I don’t need any help. The easy one is your speaker … DUM-E, bring me the implants from the printer and come hold this for me!” he called. The robot trundled over cautiously. “Here, hold the tray steady. Don’t drop it or we have to sterilize everything again.” He placed the syringe on the tray along with the other equipment he needed and put on another layer of surgical gloves.

“Sir -.”

“It’s OK, J. We’ve done all of the modeling. This will be fine. Trust me.” Tony applied another coating of betadine along his neck and up behind his right ear. Using the mirror, Tony carefully cut a slit behind his ear with the scalpel, turned the blade in order to create a pocket just under the skin, and then inserted the flat device just under his skin. He then dabbed the cut with the surgical glue. The silicon nanowires that bristled from the implant would convert his muscle movements to electrical energy and keep the device powered. “OK, say something through the implant.”

JARVIS said, _“Is this so we can tell secrets, Sir?”_

Tony shivered involuntarily, “Dial it down, J.”

_“Is this better?”_

“Beautiful. OK. Throw up the diagrams from the tests for the positioning of the throat electrodes.” Holographic screens traced the optimal placement for the electrodes tailored to Tony’s subvocalizations and he looked at them carefully as he lifted the scalpel to his throat. “OK, no sudden movements, DUM-E, or you’ll cut Daddy’s throat.” DUM-E froze in place.

He carefully made three tiny incisions, loosened small pockets under the skin, placed the paper thin electrodes inside each, and sealed the cuts with the glue. These implants were powered by muscle movement as well so he swallowed a few times and then tried them out.

_“Can you hear me, JARVIS?”_

_“Yes, Sir,”_ JARVIS replied through the implant. _“Your communication is a little unclear, but with practice this should be a reliable mode of conversation. Do you wish this to be our primary method?”_

_“Nice!”_ Tony smiled. Then out loud he said, “OK, DUM-E, you can move now. Wet wipes and make up, please. And don’t tell anyone about this.”

_“No, J. Only when I’m with people I don’t trust or with people who don’t know that you’re back. After Ultron, there was a lot of conversation about the dangers of an AI as powerful as you. They even brought you up when the Accords were discussed. I was not careful enough about who knew what you are capable of. I’m not going to make that mistake again.”_

Scheduling the trip turned out to be easy to accomplish. Jim was handling a lot of the work with the braces, assisted by Bruce, and the flight crew was amenable to a quick trip so Tony was able to leave New York two days later for the trip to Wakanda. He spent most of the flight rereading the final draft of the amended Accords that Jen’s associate had dropped off at the mansion. It was hard to stay focused when what he had really wanted to do was to review the SpaceX engineering reports, but he needed to be note perfect, whether he ended up attending the meeting with Rogers and the others or not.

Tony exited the plane, blinking behind his tinted lenses in the sunlight that fell between the jet and the small airport terminal. The heat felt good after the chill of the air conditioning. There was someone waiting for him there.

“Welcome to Wakanda, Mr. Stark. Your car is this way.” The tall woman gestured for him to follow her across the tarmac to the waiting nondescript vehicle. He had been told that the rest of the legal team dealing with the Accords was already here, but he was still somewhat surprised by how low key his arrival was. No press. No photographers. No armed guards. No disgruntled citizenry. Just the drivers and the aircraft maintenance crew. He waved to his flight crew. They were going to take a break and enjoy the sights of Wakanda for the duration of his stay.

After a short drive during which Tony answered emails and reviewed the site report from Cape Canaveral so he could sign off on the purchase, they arrived at the palace. The driver handed him over to a palace functionary who escorted him to a large, bright second story room with open floor to ceiling windows that looked out over colorful gardens. The air in the room was warm, but fans turned lazily near the ceiling and the circulation kept it from being uncomfortable. The openness of the space gave the sense that he was standing in the treetops. T’Challa was waiting for him there.

“Welcome to Wakanda, Mr. Stark.”

“Thanks,” Tony clasped his hand. “Have you made a decision on those micro-loans?”

“Oh yes,” T’Challa smiled. “I offered them the same deal that you would have, and they accepted.”

Tony inclined his head ruefully. “Good. Those are both excellent projects. I’m sorry to miss out on working with them. I can’t promise I won’t offer them jobs in the future.”

T’Challa replied, “Of course. It’s always difficult to find good people, and when you do you must hold on to them.” He gestured. “Please, have a seat.”

The two men sat on the long curved bench that overlooked the greenery and bright flowers below.

“I thought we might discuss the least palatable topic first,” said T’Challa.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed. “That’s probably best.” He added, “Did you receive the latest amendments on the Accords?”

T’Challa nodded.

“The lawyers have looked at them and the UN has approved them, so the only thing remaining is to have anyone who has previously refused to sign go over the document and make their decision.” Tony paused, briefly transfixed by the flash of a bird’s flight past the windows. “I think this is probably the last set of changes that the UN will accept at this point. Maybe later on, after the Accords have been field-tested, they might be amenable to more discussion. But people are tired of the topic.”

T’Challa said, “Yes, I can see that. There are many other issues that countries want and need to deal with.”

Tony nodded. “And, honestly, we have bigger problems ahead. I don’t want to waste any more time on this. If there are people who still can’t get on board with the Accords, they’re going to be on their own.”

T’Challa said, “I would like to go over the amendments in detail with you and discuss the reasoning before they are presented to Captain Rogers and the others. That way we have a better chance of success.” He looked at Tony. “But after the meeting I would like to sit down with you again and discuss this global threat you fear and the plans you have been making to counter it.”

Tony smiled grimly. “Yeah, we definitely need to talk about that. I need your technical expertise, but I need your leadership ability even more. I’m good with machines and with software, but I’m not good with people. You are.”

_“JARVIS, make sure T’Challa has received the full file on Thanos and all of the information we downloaded on the Chitauri, the Kree, the Skrulls, and the others before SHIELD fell.”_

_“Yes, Sir.”_

“Were you planning to attend the meeting with Captain Rogers?” T’Challa asked delicately, running his fingernail along the edge of the cushion.

Tony thought for a moment. “No. In our last few encounters, neither one of us was inclined to be reasonable.” He sighed. “We seem to bring out the worst in each other. I think we’ll get a deal faster if I’m not there.”

T’Challa nodded. “I would be happy to chair the meeting myself.”

“Thanks, I appreciate that. If anyone can get them there, it’s probably you. I would like to watch the proceedings, if that’s possible.”

“Of course. I will schedule the meeting for tomorrow morning. Tonight I thought you could join me for dinner? And we could discuss … the state of the world?” T’Challa smiled.

“I’d like that.”

 

“There has been a change to your schedule today. His Majesty will not be able to dine with you tonight, Captain Rogers.”

Steve had grown used to the barely concealed contempt on Shuri’s face after all of this time, but it was definitely unusual for the king to cancel plans with them like this. Either there had been an emergency, or something must be happening that he didn’t want them to know about. “Thank you,” he said impassively.

Shuri added, “He has invited a guest and has rearranged his schedule to accommodate that guest. You all have a meeting with King T’Challa tomorrow at 8 in the morning to discuss your situation and your continued presence in our country.” She swept out, head held high, without waiting for a response.

Clint looked at Steve as Shuri left the room. “What do you think is going on? Do you think it’s Ross?”

Natasha looked up from her book and frowned.

Steve said softly, “Maybe it’s Tony.”

Sam and Scott were playing a card game at the round table where they typically took their meals. Sam lay down his cards, “Why would Stark be here in Wakanda?”

Steve replied, “I don’t know. But something is going on that involves us, and I bet Tony is at the back of it.”

Clint muttered, “Great. Then we’re screwed.” Sam shook his head and picked his cards back up, nodding to Scott.

Steve nodded his head absently. If it was Tony, then there would be fireworks in that meeting as they rehashed old arguments. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the tension in his gut and the beginnings of a headache traveling up the back of his neck and up onto his skull. He didn’t know if he could sit in the same room as Tony and listen to him justify himself. Or even worse, try to convince them that he was right. Tony had never called him, had never acknowledged his apology, so he was obviously still stubbornly convinced that Steve was wrong. Suddenly, he felt the need to move coursing through his arms and legs. He got up abruptly. “I’m going for a run. Sam?”

Sam stood up, dropping his cards on the table, “Sure. Sorry, Scott. We’ll play later.”

The two men exited the room. Natasha said lightly, turning a page, “Well, at least maybe things will start to happen. I can’t take any more of this enforced idleness. It’s so bad that I’ve even started learning to knit.” Clint didn’t respond.

 

When they entered the conference room the next morning, Steve felt immediately deflated upon realizing that Tony wasn’t there. He had been so sure that Tony would be there. That he would insist on being the one to deliver their copies of the amended Accords and the pardons he could dangle at them as bait. That he would be sitting at the table, unable to resist inserting himself in the negotiations, unable to resist a victory lap. Then Steve shook himself. Why would Stark make time in his schedule to bring them back? Why would he deign to lift a hand to help them? He couldn’t even be bothered to pick up the phone and call Steve, or send him an email.

In T’Challa’s private apartment, Tony sipped sparkling water and leaned back in his chair, watching the large monitor showing the negotiations. He felt his heart kick up for a couple of beats when Rogers entered the room, and he smiled grimly when he saw the soldier look around with a puzzled frown. “Looking for me? Sorry. I’m not here,” he murmured.

_“Sir, I am detecting a physiological stress response. Are you all right?”_

_“Never better, J.”_

King T’Challa and two of his advisors were already sitting at the long conference table, along with the Wakandan UN representative and the lawyers that Jennifer Walters had sent. “Captain Rogers, please sit down, along with your team.”

After they had taken their seats, T’Challa said, “To begin, copies of the most recent amendments to the Accords were delivered yesterday to me by a secure courier. They have already been approved by the signatory nations in the UN. I have been advised that there are no more amendment hearings scheduled for the near future so this may be considered as a last opportunity for Captain Rogers and his team to sign the document as it now stands.” He looked at Steve. “I have heard your concerns regarding the Accords and you have been kind enough to listen to my arguments and respond. I will tell you that this is an opportunity that I did not think you would be afforded.” He lay his hand, palm down, on the stack of booklets. “This draft does not preclude the possibility of later amendments, but I have been informed that the UN has other business at hand apart from, and I quote, ‘reassuring disgraced superheroes that their rights will be respected.’”

T’Challa signaled to his advisors and they began distributing copies of the Accords to each person at the table. “The language is inflammatory, but I believe that it appropriately signifies the impatience of the international community to move on to more pressing, global matters.”

Rogers frowned as the UN representative nodded.

One of the lawyers cleared her throat and said, “Your Majesty, if I may interject?”

T’Challa inclined his head.

“I have a folder here for each of you, including Mr. Barnes who is not currently present, which details the terms and requirements of the pardon you are eligible for. Since each of your circumstances is different, you will each want to review your own folder. If you have any questions, we can meet with you individually to work out details. We have been employed by Mr. Stark to represent your interests, so if you would like to renegotiate your terms we can arrange to do that as well. Further, if you would rather seek different counsel, you are welcome to do so.”

Steve swallowed when he heard Tony’s name. “And Bucky?” he demanded.

“Since Mr. Barnes is currently unable to appoint legal representation or choose someone to act on his behalf, with the permission of King T’Challa we will be leaving his information with an appointed representative here in Wakanda until such time as he is awakened and can make decisions for himself. Mr. Stark has already earmarked funds that he can avail himself of when it becomes time for him to seek legal counsel.”

The attorneys handed out the folders and the room grew quiet as the team members read over the amended Accords and the details of their pardons.

After almost an hour, Scott was the first to agree to terms. “You know what? I don’t even care about the Accords anymore. I came here to support Captain America and nothing has gone the way I thought it would. I just want to go home to my family.” He looked down at his folder. “The terms I’m being offered are way more generous than I was expecting, and I’m not going to pass up this chance.”

“But Scott, they may put you in jail,” Steve protested.

“Cap, I broke the law. I knowingly violated the terms of my parole. I can’t hide from that any longer. At least back in the U.S. I can see my family, even if I am in jail.”

One of the attorneys interjected, “Very well, Mr. Lang. Thank you. As you can see in your documents, you will have a hearing scheduled concerning the parole violation once you return to the United States. Based upon your eagerness to cooperate, I’m confident that a solution can be reached that is acceptable to you and to the state of New York. Mr. Stark has reached out to Mr. Pym and the two of them have vouched for you with the DA.”

Natasha stretched out her hand for a pen. “I support the Accords. I came back to try to help bring the team back together. I failed. The Accords are happening with or without us, and I don’t want to be on the sidelines anymore.”

Unsurprised, Steve frowned at her as she signed the documents.

Sam leaned back in his chair, his eyes on the papers in front of him, and sighed. “One hundred and seventeen countries have said that they don’t want us invading their sovereign territory without their permission. If we do, it’s an act of war and we are enemy combatants. That sounds very similar to the military to me, Steve. And I’m OK with that system.”

“Sam, the Accords unfairly single out superheroes when all we want is to help people.”

“But Steve, one of the first things I learned as a counselor was that you can’t help people against their will. People have to be open to accepting help; otherwise, it’s just getting in people’s business without their permission or consent.”

“It’s our responsibility to react quickly to threats,” returned Steve. “Sometimes there’s no time for a thought-out, measured response. You have to trust the people on the ground. That’s true in the military, too.”

Sam shut his eyes, “The military you remember isn’t like the military today, Steve. Things have changed. There’s accountability for our actions, for our decisions now.”

“Sam, all I know is that we’re doing good in the world. This is an important principle that we’re standing up for,” Steve implored.

Sam opened his eyes and looked at Steve. “I had a close friend who had just gotten married and moved to New York a week or so before that portal opened up. She lost her wife, their home, their car, and her job in the Battle of New York, Steve. I’m not saying that the battle wasn’t an overall win,” he put his hands up when Steve rounded on him. “It was, obviously. New York is still there and not destroyed by aliens or an atomic wasteland or whatever. But my friend lost everything and meanwhile you guys went on with your lives. She still hasn’t gotten her life back together. She probably never will.” He reached for the pen.

One of the attorneys interjected curiously, “When there has been property damage for civilians or for communities after an Avengers battle, do you as an organization typically help to pay for those damages or help with the insurance claims and the litigation fees?”

“No, that’s not our job. That’s not our area of expertise,” said Steve. “Sometimes we help with the physical clean-up, like we did after the Battle of New York.”

“Who does pay for the damages?” T’Challa asked curiously. “In places like New York, Lagos, Johannesburg, or Leipzig?”

When it became obvious that no one else had thought too much about this question, Natasha spoke. “The taxpayers, the insurance companies, individuals who suffered a loss … and Tony, directly and indirectly. The Maria Stark Foundation pays for a lot of the damages and helps to connect the injured to services. There were over a thousand people left homeless and jobless after the Battle of New York. The Foundation raised millions of dollars to help them; Tony even set up a database so that displaced workers could connect to jobs. And SI ended up hiring almost 70 jobless people in various capacities at the different corporate properties. I don’t know the details on the aftermaths of our other battles, but I’d hope that there was a similar breakdown of private and public monies used to try to help affected people get back to their lives. Except for those who were killed, of course. No one can bring them back.” She looked at Sam. “I’m so sorry that happened to your friend.”

Steve stared at her. “How do you know all of that?”

She shrugged. “I asked, and Pepper told me. I had noticed that SI had a sudden influx of new hires, so I mentioned it to Pepper and she told me about what they were doing to help the city get back to work. I also overheard Tony talking to JARVIS about the jobs database. They were discussing how to write the algorithm to make the best matches. Sam, if your friend is still in need of assistance, once we’re back in the States I can ask Pepper to look into her situation.”

“If I have to sit here and listen to Nat sing Stark’s praises any longer I’m going to puke.” Clint shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Cap, I just want to go home and see if Laura will forgive me. I support you but … honestly, when Barnes went back into cryo …”

“That’s not what this was all about, Clint! It’s the principle,” Steve said tiredly.

“Is it?” He gestured. “Just give me the damn pen.”

T’Challa looked around the table. “Captain, you are the only hold out. Barnes can remain here safely in cryostasis as per his wishes until such time as he can be safely revived. At that time, he can take advantage of the offered pardon and choose whether or not to sign the Accords. Do you intend to sign the Accords? If not, we will have to make arrangements for you to remain here in Wakanda long term.”

Steve sighed and slid the papers he had so far not even touched toward himself. He began to read.

 

It had been obvious, ever since Tony had left on his flight to Wakanda, that Jim was fuming. He had made excuses not to work in the same spaces as Bruce. When Bruce walked into the kitchen on the second day of Tony’s trip intending to grab lunch, instead of leaving the room Jim confronted him. “Bruce, you told me I didn’t need to give you the shovel talk,” Rhodes said angrily, carefully setting down his fork.

“You don’t!” Bruce was startled. “I mean -.”

“Don’t lie to me.” Jim shook his head. “Do not lie to me. I don’t care if you are the Hulk. I am not going to take any crap from you. He’s my best friend and I won’t let anyone else hurt him.”

“You don’t need to worry.” Bruce put up his hands to show that he wasn’t a threat. “Not because I’m not interested in Tony like that … because I am,” Bruce confessed. “I didn’t realize it in the beginning, but the more time I spend with him the more I realize that I am.”

Jim frowned and opened his mouth to argue, but Bruce tried to cut him off, to reassure him. “I won’t hurt him, Jim. I won’t.”

“I’d like to believe you, but the last time we saw you, before you disappeared yet again, you were making time with Natasha. And then you bailed on Tony when he really could’ve used a friend. Forgive me if I think that you’re not a safe bet.” Jim was quietly furious.

“Jim, he’s not a fragile snowflake. Tony is tough,” Bruce said, thinking of all of the damage he had seen Tony take over the years, in and out of the suit, and how he had walked it off every time. With JARVIS back, Tony seemed like he was making a strong recovery and now he was taking decisive steps to bring the team back together.

“He’s really not.” Jim shook his head, “I told you what he was capable of doing to himself. What part of suicidal depression did you not get? I thought you took what I said seriously.”

“I did, but -.”

“No. There is no ‘but.’ He’s been betrayed one too many times and if it happens again, if someone plays fast and loose with his affections, best case scenario is that he never tries again and worst is that he finds a better, faster way to destroy himself. Don’t act like you know him when you’ve just proven that you don’t!”

“Jim …”

“OK, look,” Jim took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. “I know you’re operating with incomplete information because God knows Tony doesn’t willingly tell anyone anything important. You have to catch him when he’s too drunk for filters in order to find out what’s really going on. His parents’ deaths, you know that Rogers lied to him, right? Rogers knew that Barnes had killed Tony’s parents with his bare hands, but he never bothered to say anything to him. And when Tony saw the video, watched Barnes smash his dad’s head in and strangle his mom … all Rogers did was stand there and stare at him while he watched that.”

“What?” Bruce was stunned. “Steve knew …?” He felt the Hulk stir within him.

“Tony lost it. He told me he saw his mom’s face while she died and he couldn’t …” Jim broke off. “Anyway, even when he was out of his mind with rage, two super soldiers were more than enough to take him down,” Jim added sarcastically. “And then they left him there, smashed reactor, immobilized suit, badly hurt, grieving, in Siberia. They left him to die.” He shook his head. “Tony went there to help them, and his team leader lied to him, set him up to learn something very personal and painful in the worst way possible because he couldn’t bring himself to be honest with Tony. Rogers tried to kill him, and then abandoned him.”

Bruce felt like he couldn’t breathe. Steve had known.

“I have known Tony for a long time, Bruce. I knew his parents. I knew him before they died, when they ignored him, when all he did was rebel against them hoping that they would pull him closer. And I knew him after they died, when he realized that that was all he was gonna get from them. Now he knows what was stolen from him.” Jim paused. “He did love his parents, especially his mom. All those years he thought his dad had killed his mom, driving drunk. And he could be angry instead of grieve. Then he found out it was all a lie.”

Bruce stared at him silently, so many things about Tony suddenly laid bare before him.

“That’s why I will not tolerate it if you fuck with him, play games, and then abandon him. There are no excuses I will accept. You may think that I can’t do much in the shape that I’m in … but you’d be wrong,” Jim said with tightly controlled anger.

“Jim, Rhodes, I won’t hurt him. I won’t leave him. I know I’m a bad risk and I’ve let him down before, but I came back because I couldn’t stand to be away from him any longer.” Bruce looked down. “I missed him.”

“Bruce, I like you, don’t get me wrong. But all I care about is that my best friend has people he can count on. I don’t know if that’s you.”

Bruce took a deep breath. “The … um … the Other Guy, the Hulk, my alter ego. After Tony and I spent part of only one day talking and working together on the helicarrier, I came back to the fight for Tony. I could’ve run. But I didn’t. And they told me, afterwards, that Tony was the only one who expected me to show up. The Other Guy voluntarily joined the fight. He saved Tony.”

“When he caught Tony, after he … fell from the portal?” Jim swallowed, his gaze turned inward for a moment. He ran his palms down the sides of his legs.

Bruce replied gruffly, “Yeah.” He looked down. “Yeah. The Other Guy disliked Natasha and Thor, he didn’t even know Clint, and had had very little interaction with Rogers. And I didn’t care about any of them. But he knew Tony. He and I both came back for Tony. I don’t know why I’ve run away from that knowledge for so long, but I’m here now. And I’m not leaving again.”

 

Feeling as though he could finally relax enough to fill his lungs with air, Tony waved to his pilot and the crew as he climbed aboard the jet. He had enjoyed the time spent with T’Challa; it was always fun to talk to someone who could keep up with and even challenge him intellectually. After they had seen the lawyers off with the signed paperwork, the two men had spent a couple of days looking over the information on the project in Tanzania, bickering companionably about their respective coding styles, and coming up with a prioritized list for Earth defense and Mars exploration. The constant awareness of Rogers’ presence nearby was an irritant, but it was still enjoyable spending time with someone who had similar responsibilities and a similar attitude toward them.

The jet was definitely a nice ride, well worth the extra he had paid to jump to the front of the waiting list. It served several purposes: it was fast, it was comfortable, it really was a cleaner jet, and it reminded Ross and his flunkeys that Tony was still a high roller. It also helped to promote SI, something that Tony had started to appreciate more.

Once inside, he slipped off his jacket and sat down. At Mach 0.90 they should be back in New York by dawn, just in time for the work day to start. He would leave Rogers and the others to figure out how they were going to get back. He was willing to do a lot, but he wasn’t willing to be cooped up in the jet with them.  Maybe T’Challa would spot them the money to fly business class. He smiled.

Massaging his temples, Tony wished briefly that he could get through one day without a headache. Then he took out his phone and started scrolling through the emails JARVIS had flagged and forwarded to him. His conversation with the king had been very productive; they had both been a bit startled to discover how closely their thoughts ran together about dealing with global threats. T’Challa had already been quietly doing some of the same work Tony was, so they had spent several hours the night before discussing ways in which they could integrate their efforts. Most importantly, they had put their respective project leads in touch with each other so that they could begin collaborating. It had been an enjoyable evening, and Tony felt like his efforts had moved forward and that his relationship with the Wakandan king had improved.


	6. Chapter 6

_“I am a member of a team, and I rely on the team, I defer to it and sacrifice for it, because the team, not the individual, is the ultimate champion.” - Mia Hamm_

Tony entered the gym at the compound, hoping to catch all of the younger Avengers there. _“OK, J. Are you gonna go play with FRIDAY while Daddy visits his other kids?”_

_“Should I be concerned about any impending paternity suits, Sir?”_ JARVIS’ response through the implant was pitched low enough that no one should’ve been able to hear it, but Tony caught Vision’s puzzled head tilt.

Tony smiled. _“Softer. Play nice, J. She’s a little intimidated by you still. And please remind her that your existence is need-to-know right now. And Vision and the others don’t need to know.”_

_“Yes, Sir. I will make friends. It will be easier if she and I can coordinate communication between the compound and the mansion. I do not like this feeling of being cut off from physical environments you are in,”_ JARVIS grumbled. This time his response was pitched even lower and Vision didn’t seem to notice.

“Tony!” Kamala called over the gym floor, bouncing in place with an overflow of energy. “We’re over here! I’m trying to see how I could neutralize Wanda.”

Wanda gave a reserved smile, “She hasn’t succeeded yet.”

“Yet!” Kamala struck a boxing pose.

_“J, if I start to behave irrationally or seem compromised in any way when I’m with Wanda, please notify FRIDAY and Bruce immediately but do not reveal yourself.”_

_“Is this a possibility, Sir?”_

_“I’m just being careful. She’s messed with me before, and I don’t trust her not to do it again if it suits her.”_

_“Why is she here, then?”_

_“Because people need second chances, even those that are a bad risk.”_ Tony laughed as he followed Vision over to where they were sparring. “Show me,” he suggested, turning and dropping gracefully onto the bench seating along the edge of the gym.

Kamal and Wanda exchanged glances and then a pale red glow appeared between them, an insubstantial looking wall that crawled in the air. Kamala took a deep breath and her hands suddenly stretched, enormous fingers attempting to gain purchase around the edges of the expanding wall.

“Look at you crazy kids, breaking the laws of physics!” Tony laughed.

Peter landed with a springy thump next to him on the floor. “Don’t forget about me!”

“Parker! Heart condition!” Tony exclaimed, lightly touching the scar in the center of his chest.  He didn’t miss the worried glance that Vision shot him. Tony had already made sure that FRIDAY and Vision had copies of all of his recent medical records in case something should happen at the compound. Vision was read in on the problems he had been having, and he was obviously concerned. “It’s all good, Vision. Don’t be a worry wort.”

“Is it true, Tony?” Peter turned to him. “That Captain America and the others are coming back? Ms. Barton said that Hawkeye contacted her and said they had been pardoned. Then she said she hung up on him.” He did a handstand. “Trouble in paradise!”

Wanda abruptly let down the energy wall, catching Kamala as she suddenly fell forward, her hands and arms becoming proportional again. They both turned to look at Tony with concerned expressions.

“Yeah. That’s what I came to talk with you all about. They’ll be back in country before the end of the week, and they need a secure location to stay at. I’d really like for all of you to play nice.”

“Here,” Wanda said slowly. “They’re coming here.”

Sensing the change in mood, Peter resumed his feet and looked at her. “Is that bad? Don’t you want them here, Wanda?”

She replied thoughtfully. “I don’t know how I feel about it. Not really? I feel like I’m just now getting some control. They helped me … supported me. But they lied to me, too. They told me everything I did was all right and it wasn’t.”

“Wanda,” Tony began. “We all made mistakes -.”

“But it isn’t up to me to decide,” she continued, ignoring his attempt to commiserate. “It’s up to you, Tony. This is your compound. And you’re the one that we fought.” Vision put an arm over her shoulder to comfort her.

“Wanda, people argue. It’s not the end of the world. We can still be a team,” Tony said dismissively.

“Do you really believe that?” she asked him. “You haven’t even been to the compound to see us in over a month. If they’re here, you won’t come back at all.”

“Look, guys,” Tony said, pinching the bridge of his nose. “It’s up to the four of you and Laura whether they stay here or not.” He rubbed his chest absently. “If any of you don’t want them here, then we’ll find another solution. But you’ve probably seen what the media has to say. They aren’t very popular right now, and they need to be in a secure location until they fix some of their PR problems. Otherwise, it’s a distraction from the work.”

He looked at the four of them in turn. “If any of you don’t want them here, then they won’t be here. I’m serious about that. They’re my past, but you are the present and the future. You are more important to me than trying to repair relationships with my former team.”

Kamala and Peter looked at each other, bumped shoulders, and smiled. Tony grinned at them.

Vision said, “For my part, I would like to give the team a chance. It is undeniable that we can learn from more experienced fighters. And it’s distressing to be divided like this.”

Wanda said, “Can we have some time to talk it over together? With Laura and FRIDAY, too?”

“Sure. Do you want me there or not?” Tony asked easily.

“I think we’d rather talk without you here,” Wanda said slowly, testing his boundaries. “Is that OK?”

“I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t,” Tony said breezily. “You need to be the ones to make this decision. I want you to do what’s right for you, not what you think I want.”

Peter nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”

Tony smiled and got up. “Alright, squirt. I’m going to head out. I’m pretty sure I have some kind of meeting to attend or some science to do.”

“Or, you know, you could get a good night’s sleep,” Peter called after him as he started to walk away.

Tony waved a hand without turning back around. “I’ll take that under advisement, but I make no promises,” he called.

 

 

The shield came down, piercing his armor and bisecting the bright blue of the arc reactor in his chest. The shield was a circle and the reactor was a circle and his mouth was an open circle and it felt like he was screaming but there was no sound in space, just the heat that vaporized him in an instant of pain and then the hard, harsh cold. The hot blue star collapsed, compressed and compressed in his chest, until he was turned inside out, a supermassive black hole, spinning madly and throwing out beams of pure energy, no light escaping, and he couldn’t breathe and he couldn’t feel his heart beating and it was frozen, colder than any ice, and so dark and then he let go of the bomb and drifted dead in the void as the alien ship burst into atoms. And they showered over him like grains of hot sand.

Tony woke abruptly, catapulting off of the workshop couch onto the floor. He scrubbed at his face, trying to calm the frantic beating of his heart. “Oh shit, oh fuck,” he chanted softly. “Fuck, fucking hell …”

“Sir? Sir?” JARVIS’ tone was alarmed.

_“I’m fine, J. I’m fine.”_ He sat up and leaned forward, elbows to knees, buried his face in his hands. “I’m fine.” In his chest, his heart continued to pound erratically and he couldn’t seem to get enough air. His chest hurt like he was being hollowed out.

_“Sir? Do we need to contact your cardiologist?”_

“No, J. It’s the middle of the night,” Tony gritted out. _“No … maybe ...”_ He struggled to catch his breath. “No. But I think I need my …” he gestured.

“Of course. DUM-E, bring Sir’s medication, please. It’s the bottle on the counter with the tracker on it.” DUM-E whirred over to the kitchenette countertop and sorted precisely through the items on the surface. After locating the correct bottle, he spun around, knocking over everything else on the countertop, and headed over to the couch. He stopped right in front of Tony and carefully extended the bottle down to him.

Tony said, “Thanks, buddy.” He shook out a pill, stuffing the bottle in his pocket, and dry swallowed the medication. He sat for a moment breathing deeply, waiting for his heart rate to calm down. Shakily, he pulled himself back up onto the couch with DUM-E serving as a brace. “OK, OK, thank you, you’re done. Shoo.” He flapped one hand weakly at the robot. Instead of leaving however, DUM-E crouched close by. “Are you going to babysit me, buddy?” Tony asked softly, resting a hand and then his forehead on DUM-E’s strut. He rubbed his chest with his other hand, forcing the fear down.

After about ten minutes, he sighed and, reaching for his tablet with his other hand, brought up the SpaceX files.

“Sir,” JARVIS protested.

“It’s necessary, J. Besides, I’m not going to sleep any more tonight.”  


 

 

Wanda peeked into the common room and saw Kamala sitting on the couch, a couple of textbooks on the table in front of her. She hesitantly walked into the room. “Kamala?”

“What’s up, Wanda?” Kamala looked up.

“Are you busy?”

“Just studying for my physics test,” she replied dismissively. “It can wait. The test isn’t until next Wednesday. I was just going over the latest material that Tony helped me with.” She sighed. “It’s so detailed; there’s a lot to remember.”

“Was Tony here again?” Wanda asked curiously.

“No, he’s my video homework helper when I need it. FRIDAY patches me through to his tablet or one of his monitors if he’s at the mansion. What did you need?”

“Can I ask you a personal question?” Wanda sat down on the couch next to her.

“Sure. I might not answer it though if it’s too personal.”

“That’s fair,” Wanda smiled. “Are you ever afraid of your powers?”

Kamala immediately answered, as if she had been waiting for the question. “Yes, absolutely. I love that I have them because I can help people, I can make the world a better place. But at the same time it’s really terrifying. I feel singled out, like I have this extra responsibility that maybe I wasn’t ready for. And I don’t like how it sets me apart from my family.”

Wanda said sadly, “I don’t like a lot of the things I’ve done with my powers. I’ve caused a lot of problems. I’ve been irresponsible.”

“Maybe.” Kamala nodded pensively. “Yeah, I guess so. But honestly isn’t it hard to know sometimes? It’s hard to know where the line is. Isn’t that the problem with all of this stuff about the Accords? How do you know when it’s right to step in, or when it’s right to stand back and wait for permission?”

Wanda shrugged. “When I think about getting involved again, I’m terrified that I’ll miss that line.  I’m always on edge, like I’m about to be out of control. You came into your powers trying to help. I came into mine in order to get revenge. I think that makes me more of a danger than a help.”

“But Wanda you’ve changed since then,” Kamala said reasonably. ‘You’ve tried to do what’s right. That has to count for something.”

“Kamala, sometimes I think my power is stronger than I am, that it controls me rather than me controlling it.”

“That’s why we train,” Kamala said simply. “We train, and we are mindful before we act.”

They were all exhausted and out of sorts. After all of the paperwork had been signed back in Wakanda, they had cooled their heels for six days and then suddenly it had seemed as though King T’Challa and the palace staff couldn’t wait to get them out of the country. They had been informed that they had an early flight the next morning, so they had hurriedly packed all of their gear. After a few hours to sleep and a quick breakfast, they were shuttled to the airport, placed on a small private jet, and flown to the US.

Once in the US, they had spent an inordinate amount of time dealing with TSA, their lawyers, a UN representative, the FBI, Homeland Security, and the local police. With every new sour faced representative of law and order, Steve’s heart had dropped a little more. No one seemed glad that they were back. When they were finally able to leave the airport, Lang had repeated his desire to leave the team and go deal with his legal issues as soon as possible, so he was whisked away by his attorney.

The rest of the team was escorted to a large black car, out of public view. As soon as they were in, the driver said shortly, “The drive to the compound will take about 45 minutes. There’s water in the mini fridge,” before closing the window between the two compartments and pulling out into the traffic exiting the airport.

Steve looked at the team. Natasha gave a half smile and leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes. Sam and Clint followed suit. Steve watched the urban scenery go by and wondered who would be waiting for them at the compound.

Almost an hour later, the driver opened the partition and said, “We’re almost there. I was instructed to enter at the main gate, but it looks as though it’s obstructed.”

“What the hell?” Clint said, twisting around in his seat as they approached the wide gate. “Are those protestors? Are they protesting against Stark?”

Their driver didn’t respond, but when she slowed in order to give the automated gate time to open for them, they could easily read the words on some of the signs through the dark tinted windows of the car.

_“When did Captain America stop supporting democracy?”_

_“What do you have to hide?”_

_“Stop bullying the little guys!”_

_“We demand accountability!”_

Sam said apprehensively, “They’re protesting against us. I think they’re going to block the gate.”

Steve swallowed, preparing himself to exit the car and talk to the hostile crowd. He reached for the door handle but before he could make his move, Natasha touched his arm and said, “Wait. I think Tony’s got it.” She asked the driver, “Can we hear what’s going on outside, please?”

The driver switched on the exterior mic and the angry shouts of the protestors could be heard, along with the familiar noise of the Iron Man repulsors. The crowd parted and fell quiet as Iron Man landed on the road off to the side of the car. His faceplate flipped up, revealing the familiar face of Tony Stark. Steve didn’t recognize the armor; it was heavier looking than he remembered. With a pang, he realized that he could not see the glow of the arc reactor in the chest; Tony had obviously made the decision to shield his power source from view.

Several voices melded into a sudden stream of shouted questions. “Mr. Stark! We heard that the Avengers who fought against the Accords have been pardoned and are in that car! Why don’t they have to face justice like ordinary criminals do? Why are they getting special treatment?”

Tony raised one hand and said, “The US government weighed the service that Captain Rogers and his team could provide to humanity and the fact that they all willingly signed the Accords, plus their sincere contrition for the way it all went down, and it was decided by the government and law enforcement that they would receive pardons.”

“That’s not good enough!” a voice in the crowd called and a rock sailed through the air to smash into the windshield of the car. The glass held, but a tiny hairline crack appeared. For a moment it looked as though the entire group was going to explode into violence.

“Hey, now!” Tony protested, raising his voice in order to be heard over the tumult. “You know that any damage you do, I’m going to have to pay for.” The protestors immediately backed down.

“Look,” he continued, his genial public mask in full effect. “We don’t always liked the decisions that are made, just like we don’t always agree with the laws. But you work the process to change laws, or else participate in non-violent civil disobedience, or protests like this one. That’s how it works, right? It’s not perfect, but it’s better than chaos.” He gestured at the car. “We can’t just automatically resort to violence.”

Then he flashed a peace sign and smiled. “OK, photo op!” There were some angry murmurs in the crowd, but there were also a lot of people who lowered their signs and stepped forward to take selfies with Iron Man.

The driver took advantage of the distraction to pull very slowly around the protestors and through the gate which swung shut promptly behind them. Steve turned in his seat and watched the crowd until the driveway curved and his view was blocked. After the driver had stopped the car in front of the compound and let them off with their luggage, they heard the unmistakable sound of Iron Man taking off. Steve steeled himself to see Tony do his signature landing on the gravel next to them and then have that first, difficult conversation. Instead, he watched as the armor jetted off in a high arc in the sky.

 

 

“What are you doing here?” Peter challenged as soon as they entered the compound. “I thought we had more time to decide!”

“Peter,” Vision chided softly. “Hello, Captain.” He nodded to all of the others. “We hadn’t foreseen your arrival until tomorrow or the next day. Tony did call me this morning, however, and let me know you had arrived unexpectedly early. We’ll have rooms ready for you shortly.”

“Wanda! You’re really here!” Clint came forward, ignoring everyone else.

Wanda stepped back, preserving the physical rift between the two groups, “Why wouldn’t I be?” she said curiously.

“Well, I didn’t trust anything that Stark told us,” Clint replied dismissively, remembering what she had looked like imprisoned under Stark’s house arrest and later at the RAFT.

“You shut up about Tony!” Kamala said loudly, stepping forward to stand next to Peter and clenching her fists.

“I’m sorry. Who are you?” Clint drawled angrily, ready for conflict. “Wanda, we need to talk privately,” he added urgently, wanting to get her away from the others where they could talk more freely.

“I’m Kamala Khan, Ms. Marvel. I’m one of Tony’s Avengers. And this is our place now. If you can’t be civil, then you can leave.”

Wanda said, “You can talk to me here, with the others.”

Clint laughed, his eyes still drawn to Wanda. “There are no ‘Tony’s Avengers.’ We were Avengers before you were even born, little girl.”

“Don’t you talk down to me,” she replied, standing her ground. “We’re not afraid of you.”

Then another voice, familiar and stiff with anger, added, “You gave up your right to walk in like you own this place, Clint. All of you did.”

“Laura!” The others forgotten, Clint surged toward her.

“No, don’t touch me,” she said. He continued forward until she stepped back. “I’m serious, Clint. If you don’t back off right now, I’m taking the kids and leaving tonight and you will never see us again.”

He stopped in his tracks and spread his hands out. “Laura … what did Stark tell you?”

She looked at him incredulously. “What did he _tell_ me? He _told_ me, after you had abandoned your family to chase after this man on his personal quest, that he would protect me and the kids. He _told_ me that he would pay for everything until I figured out what to do. He _told_ me that he would make sure the kids had schooling, health care, a safe place to live. He _told_ me not to worry about Ross or the others who were pursuing you, that they’d never be able to touch me or the kids while he was alive. That’s what he _told_ me. And none of what _he_ said was a lie.” By the time she finished she was shaking with fury and Clint looked abashed.

In the ensuing silence, everyone heard Wanda ask very softly but very clearly, “Kamala! Are you instagramming this?”

Steve was suddenly struck by the fact that this was the first time he had heard Wanda sound like a normal young person.

“Well, yeah! We have a bunch of old timey Avengers making some pretty funny angry faces right before they get their asses kicked. I am definitely instagramming this!” Peter snorted and Kamala grinned at him.

Trying to get the conversation back on track, Steve looked at Wanda and asked, “Wanda, are you OK? Are you here willingly?”

“I signed the Accords,” she replied. “I agree with Tony. I know more than anybody how important accountability is and how dangerous an out-of-control meta-human is. Do you know how much damage I’ve done? People died, Steve.”

“It wasn’t your fault,” Steve pleaded.

“How can it be that nothing is ever our fault?” she returned sharply. “You said the same thing about Barnes. But if the things we do are never our fault, then aren’t we children? At least Tony treats me like an adult. And I am an adult, Steve. Tony gave me options and I chose to stay here, to train with Vision and Peter and Kamala … and with him. I need to be responsible for my actions.” She shuddered. “You have no idea what I showed Tony when we first met. I’m the one who pushed him to create Ultron. I’m the one who turned the Hulk loose on Johannesburg. I killed those people in Lagos. I take responsibility for that, just like he does for what he’s done.”

Natasha stepped forward. “I would like to train with you, Wanda. With all of you.” She looked around. “I know none of you trusts me, including Tony. But I’m willing to earn your trust.”

Peter eyed her doubtfully, but Kamala said, “I don’t mind training with you. I know Tony wants us to train with more experienced people, and it would make Vision happy. But I don’t think I want to sleep in the same building as any of you. You came in like this place was yours and it’s not. This place is ours.”

“What?” Clint exclaimed. “What are you saying? Where are we supposed to go?” He glared at her.

“She’s saying that we don’t trust you,” Peter replied combatively. “We know what you did. You signed the Accords, but to be honest I don’t think that matters to you. You broke your word before; why wouldn’t you do it again if it served your purpose?”

Sam exclaimed, “Peter, at least get to know us before you make a judgment like that.”

Peter turned an uncharacteristically stormy gaze on him. “Oh, so now you believe that you should get to know people before you judge them? Give them the benefit of the doubt? You’re the people who escalated the fight instead of talking,” he said with scorn. “Don’t forget that I was actually there for part of it.” He stalked out, and Sam looked after him in confusion.

Laura had eyes only for Clint. “I don’t know if I can take you back, Clint. You’re not the person I thought you were. How could you abandon your family like that when you know what it feels like to be abandoned by family?” She turned away from him, tears standing in her eyes but refusing to spill over, and she and Kamala followed Peter out.

Wanda looked at each of the team in turn. “I’m not going to go against their wishes,” she finally said. “They don’t want you living here. They don’t know you like I do; the only thing they have to judge you on is your actions.” She looked at Natasha, “But you can train here if you want.” She sighed. “Maybe that will start to bring us together.” She turned and left the entryway, too.

“Vision,” said Steve, staring at the floor, “is there someplace else we can stay for now? The tower maybe?”

Vision replied, “Let me contact Mr. Stark. Have a seat in the common room, please, and I will return presently.”

Steve said, “Vision, wait. Can’t you call him for us right now, here? So we can talk to him?”

Vision demurred, “I don’t know if he is available.” He left them standing there in the empty entryway.  


 

 

“Yeah, I can’t say that surprises me,” Tony said, his hands dancing over the circuitry in front of him for the inside of his gauntlet. “I got back to the mansion just in time for FRIDAY to send me the video of the welcome our lost sheep got from the baby team.”

“It did not go well,” Vision said mildly. “But it could have been worse. There was no bloodshed.”

Tony snorted. “Well, they aren’t staying at the tower. I’m not risking the health and safety of my employees just because Clint can’t play nice. Seriously. He needs to let it go. Who is rude to Kamala? She’s the sweetest kid ever!”

Vision replied doubtfully, “I can let things cool down a bit here and try again.”

“No,” Tony said abruptly, picking up the soldering iron from its base. “If the kids don’t feel safe, then I’m not pushing them to accept Rogers and the others.”

“It is possible that they were exaggerating. They are young, after all,” Vision said.

“True. But no. If nothing else, Laura still needs some space if that marriage is going to be saved. Look, we’ll put them up at the mansion for now.” He carefully made the first bead of solder.

“But Tony -.”

“It’s fine. I’ll have Happy work his magic. We’ll put them in the west wing. It’ll be peachy.” Second bead. Third. Perfect silver spheres that held everything together.

“Tony -.”

“It’s fine. And Vision, I’m sorry I bailed on you.”

Vision said after a pause, “To be honest, if I could’ve avoided that confrontation, I would have as well. I will have FRIDAY recall the car and send them on to the mansion. Do you want me to accompany them there to ease the transition?”

“No, Happy will take over once they arrive. Thanks, Vision.” Tony gestured with his left hand and the image on the screen disappeared. He sighed, put the soldering iron back on its stand, and massaged his temples.

“Headache?” Bruce asked, walking into the room and setting a bottle of water down on the desk of front of him. Tony picked it up and cracked the lid. The bottle was icy and chilled his fingers as he took a swallow.

“No. Well, yes, but that’s nothing new.” Bruce waited patiently and Tony finally added, “Rogers, Barton, Wilson, and Nat are coming to stay at the mansion.” He got up from the desk and stood in the middle of the space looking around at the clutter with a scowl.

 “What?” Bruce felt the sudden green rage surge through him, closer to flowering to the surface against his will than it had been in a long time.  It came from deep inside and pushed painfully at him in every direction.

Tony reached out and lightly touched his arm, ran fingers over his skin and smoothed the hairs down, on steady ground now that he could concentrate on Bruce’s feelings instead of his own. “It’s OK, Bruce. They’re pardoned and all legal now, and they’ll need a place to stay while they reintegrate into the team.”

“The compound. Or somewhere else.” Bruce felt the Other Guy pushing from the inside, begging to be let out to defend Tony.

“Laura doesn’t want Barton there. He started picking fights the minute he arrived. And the kids don’t want Rogers there.”

“I don’t want them here.”

“Bruce…” Tony suddenly looked so wrung out as he ran the icy bottle over his forehead, and Bruce felt a hot wash of guilt. His anger subsided.

“I’m sorry, Tony. That’s not fair; it’s not my decision. I just don’t trust them and they’re going to hurt you by being here.” Bruce pulled Tony down onto the workshop couch and put an arm around him. He felt the familiar flinch and tension before Tony started to relax a little.

“We have to learn to work together as a team.” Tony closed his eyes, took another sip of water, and collapsed against Bruce’s side, feeling the tight band of the headache he’d been ignoring since the confrontation at the compound gate squeezing all of his thoughts away. The knowledge that Rogers had been in that car had made his heart beat too quickly and had created tension from his lower back all the way to his temples. Now that he knew Rogers was coming here to his home, he felt nauseated and shaky. He tried to concentrate his thoughts on those silver beads of solder: perfect on the outside, holding it all together on the inside and hidden beneath the outer armor.

Bruce raised one hand and ran it over the back of Tony’s neck, starting to work away some of the stress with his fingers. Cautiously, because they hadn’t really talked about suiting up as the Avengers again, he added, “Tony, I don’t think I can ever let the Other Guy out around them. It wouldn’t be safe.”

“That’s fine,” Tony replied, his eyes still closed. “Most of my battles these days aren’t brute force either.” He let his head drop minutely as the tension in his neck started to release.  “This is my fault. I should’ve just gotten it over with.”

“How is it your fault?”

“I was there when they arrived at the compound, but instead of going inside like an adult and helping to guide the introductions I took off back for home, told myself I had things to do and Vision could handle it.” His head dropped even further and Bruce felt for the last remaining knots of stress at the base of his neck. He dug his thumbs in and immediately felt Tony’s muted relief. “I didn’t even see them – I just saw the car they were riding in and it made me feel sick. I couldn’t even face them, and I have to somehow learn to work with them. But it’ll be fine. It’ll be fine.”

Bruce snorted. “Fine like that cartoon of the dog in hell … ‘This is fine.’”

Tony laughed, a real laugh, and then said, pulling Bruce’s hand down and lacing his fingers through Bruce’s and burrowing against his side, “You know that this touching thing is a little over the top, right? I’m starting to feel that it’s not an entirely heterosexual thing we are doing here.” He squeezed Bruce’s hand.

“I was betting that neither of us was entirely heterosexual,” replied Bruce with a small smile, willing to let Tony try to distract him in order to hear that laugh.

“Are we going to have to talk about it at some point?” Tony quirked an eyebrow.

“If you want,” Bruce replied. “But I’m OK if we don’t.”

Tony sighed. “Yeah. Let me think about that for a while.”


	7. Chapter 7

_“Really the misfortunes which are now such a cause of grief ought to be reasons for tranquility. For now she has deserted you, and no man can ever be secure until he has been forsaken by Fortune…. prudence demands that we look to the future.” -    Boethius, The Consolation of Philosophy_

The car pulled away, not waiting for them to be received at the mansion, and Steve found himself hanging back, wary of yet another confrontation he wasn’t prepared for. Natasha rapped on the heavy wooden door of the manor. It all looked so familiar and yet so strange, like a something he had only ever seen from very far away. The trees on the grounds were dizzyingly tall and overgrown, just on the edge of wildness, and the flower gardens were dug out and empty. The house itself appeared faded and uncared for. Someone had apparently recently mowed the grass, swept the walk, and scrubbed the leaded glass of the entryway, but the house still looked like an unloved and defiant child. Above the high roof the sky was a deep gray. Somewhere in the treetops, a mockingbird sang car alarms and mobile tones. At Steve’s side, Sam stifled a nervous laugh.

Steve was concerned about what to say to Tony when he saw him, how to get close enough to fall back into at least a semblance of trust if they were going to make this work. As the front door swung open, he steeled himself for the skirmish, only to feel deflated when he saw Happy Hogan standing in the doorway.

“Hey, Captain Rogers. Mr. Stark is away on business, so he asked me to show you guys to your rooms and give you the quick tour.” He gestured for them to follow him in.  “It’s still a little less automated around here than we’re used to, but the boss is working on it.” The words were friendly enough but impersonal. If he were being honest, Steve knew that Hogan, Rhodes, and Pepper had always held themselves somewhat apart from the team – an open reminder of the lack of trust Tony placed in anyone who wasn’t a member of his inner circle. Steve could remember many times when smiles had become muted as he had walked in on conversations between Tony and one of those three. In retrospect, that intentional distance was probably a big part of why the team had divided along the lines it had. Tony hadn’t trusted him, and he hadn’t trusted Tony.

Steve, Sam, Clint, and Natasha stood in a loose arc and looked around the foyer. The inside of the entryway didn’t look at all like Steve remembered from the few times he had been here before, but it also didn’t have the modern, high tech minimalism and elegance of Tony’s spaces at the tower or the compound. Instead, it was functional, classy but forgettable like the lobby of a nice hotel. The room itself was in the center of the two wings of the mansion and had paired elevators, one on either side.

“Basically, you have free reign over the west wing of the house – common areas, kitchen and pantry, suites, game room, gym, a small exterior garage for your vehicles and equipment, and the indoor pool. There’s a solarium, too, and a music room in that wing, but they’re both closed up and empty. We’ll get some scans of your fingerprints and retinas so we can do some basic security for you until we finish getting all of the wiring in and can do full security. The mansion grounds are completely secure and we have two perimeters, so we shouldn’t have to worry about anyone unauthorized getting to the mansion.”

Hogan looked briefly apologetic as he led them to one of the elevators and touched his hand to the scanner on the wall next to it.  “We weren’t really expecting company at the mansion so soon, so getting everything up to spec hasn’t been a priority. The east wing is still fully under construction, with the exception of the labs, the workshop, the garage, and Mr. Stark’s rooms.” He looked at them evenly. “All of which are off limits to you.”

Clint snorted, but Steve said, “That’s OK. I know Tony didn’t want us here. He should’ve had us stay at the tower.”

“Mr. Stark is concerned about the safety of his employees at the tower, so he doesn’t allow Avengers business or personnel there. We were expecting you to stay at the compound, but that didn’t pan out, so,” Hogan shrugged, “the boss felt this was the only other property with an acceptable level of security to house you.”

“Did we trade the Raft for another jail?” Clint spat, thinking of his family back at the compound. Coming back to the US had brought him no closer to reconciliation with them, it seemed. “Are we here so he can watch us and report back to Ross if he doesn’t like what he sees?”

Hogan looked at him, “There are Stark tablets in your common room and you have internet access. You’ll probably want to catch up on public opinion about your actions, Mr. Barton, before you start leveling accusations.”

Steve interjected sadly, “We got a taste of public opinion outside of the compound.”

Hogan continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “Mr. Stark takes security very seriously. Now, I’ll show you all through the west wing and you can decide which suites you want. There are basics in the kitchen. The fridge and the pantry can both be set up to automatically stay stocked with what you need. There’s a tutorial, but if you need assistance I can have someone sit down with you. We have a small hand-picked staff here that can see to your needs. Oh, and Mr. Stark has put you on salary like the rest of the Avengers for accounting purposes. You have a team bank account, so you can order whatever items you need.”

Everywhere, Steve could see signs that Tony had brutally bisected his parents’ home. There was no apparent connection between the two halves apart from the entryway. He looked down one hallway that had been truncated and ended in a blank and ugly wall, trying to understand the logic. Noticing his stare, Hogan said, “Yeah, that’s not very pretty. Mr. Stark installed a freight elevator in the other wing and since he didn’t want to change the outside profile of the mansion we lost some space inside. That’s the back of the shaft.”

As they trailed behind him, Natasha thought about the custom-tailored floors Tony had designed for them back at the tower. She thought of the broad, vertiginous spaces that let in the light. She thought of the love of design and planning that had contributed to logically beautiful living and working spaces. There was none of that sense of Tony in this place.

Once they had been escorted to their suits and taken care of their scans for security, Sam and Steve disappeared into their rooms. Natasha followed Clint into his.

“Nat,” he said, standing in the center of the room staring at an empty wall, “I’m not in the mood.”

“Then I’ll get right to the point. Clint, you have to let this go.”

“Stark poisoned my family against me, Nat. I’ve lost everything.” Clint dropped his bags to the floor.

“Clint, I’m sorry but you’re not thinking clearly. You’re only going to lose everything if you don’t stop this. Why can’t you move forward?”

Clint replied tightly, “I have never been this angry in my life. I … I think I know how Banner must feel sometimes. I am trying to get over it … but I hate the way that Stark is playing the puppet master here. We haven’t even got to talk to him and we’ve seen him once, wearing the armor, but he has complete control over our lives.”

Natasha said smiling, “First of all, I think you’re giving him way too much credit. I bet he’s too busy to spend much time worrying about what we’re doing. And secondly … maybe he’s afraid to see us. The last time he saw Steve face to face was when Steve and Bucky almost killed him.”

Clint shrugged. “Part of me wants things to go back to the way they were. But I know that’ll never happen. And part of me wants to walk away from all of this Avengers bullshit.”

Natasha said, “It’s hard to be angry for so long.” She paused. “Maybe you should walk away, Clint. That might be the best thing you can do to make things right with your family.”

“I don’t know if it would be enough to make it right, Nat.” Clint replied. “And I can’t just walk away from Steve…”

“Forget Steve. What would make it right with Laura?”

“I think if I could explain to Laura why I did it … but looking back I don’t even really know anymore.”

“Then that’s where you need to start, Clint,” Natasha said with compassion.

She left him to his thoughts and went back to her suite. She hadn’t seen Steve’s or Sam’s quarters, but having been in Clint’s she suspected that she had received the most updated set of rooms in their wing. The bathroom, in particular, was filled with light and gleaming finishes and was reminiscent of the tower. It was also stocked with thick white towels, aromatic soaps and bath oils, and a roomy terry cloth wrap. She ran her fingers over the framed mirror and examined her reflection. She looked tired, even a little worried. She schooled her expression, bringing back her habitual neutrality. Then she relaxed and let her concern bleed through. She glanced at the antique copper bathtub behind her. She hadn’t had a long, hot bath in over a year.

As she had suspected, the décor in most of the wing might be somewhat dated, but Tony’s hot water was fantastic. He knew how to prioritize.

After several days at the mansion, Steve had finally figured out that no one but his team ever used the front entrance, so he stopped loitering there in hopes of catching Tony. He still hadn’t seen Tony or Rhodes, even though he knew that they both had been in and out of the mansion several times. He had mentioned this to Hogan and gotten the reply that there was a second entrance by the large garages. It had been strongly suggested that he not go looking for it. So Steve was startled when he heard the door to the entryway open and the sound of footsteps behind him as he waited for the elevator to their wing after his early morning run around the grounds. He turned, hoping that he would finally get to have it out with Tony. He let the elevator door slide shut again when he saw who had entered the foyer.

“Bruce?” Steve couldn’t believe his eyes. “You’re back? Nobody told me. When did you get here?” He strode forward energetically; the other man had stopped, clutching his cloth shopping bags, and was staring at Steve with calculation as if he didn't know him.

Bruce hung back, his body language nervous and uncomfortable and yet oddly confrontational. Bruce's hair was close cropped and he looked thin and a bit weary; he also looked angry. “I’ve been back for a while,” he replied, stepping away from Steve as he got within arm’s reach, staring at him across the expanse of the hallway. “I came back to help Tony and Jim … and I stayed for Tony.”

Steve gave a weak smile and started to reply, but he was cut off when Bruce continued softly.

“You haven’t seen me because I had no interest in seeing you. In fact, I told Tony he shouldn’t have worked to have you pardoned, then that he shouldn’t invite you back to rejoin the Avengers, and, when he did that anyway, that he should let you stew over there in the compound. But instead he brought you into his home, somewhere he should feel safe. He brought you here after everything.”

Steve flexed his fingers, unsure what to say. “Bruce, you know what was at stake. The government has tried to make a weapon out of you in the past, too. And with Ross involved in the Accords, you have to agree with me that -.”

Bruce spoke over him. “You left Tony to die in Siberia. You lied to him. You betrayed him. And you left him to die.” Steve stopped speaking. “I have no interest in talking politics with you and arguing about right and wrong,” Bruce continued.

Bruce took another step back and, keeping Steve in view, half turned in order to place his palm on the pad next the east wing elevator. The door slid open immediately, almost as if it had been waiting for him, and Steve was reminded of life at the technological marvel that was the tower, a brief twist of painful nostalgia that startled him. “I’m going to go now.” Bruce nodded to himself. “Yeah, I’m going to go. Because I’m very unhappy that Tony let you back here and I don’t think this is safe for him at all. He’s taking all kinds of risks having you here, personal and political and professional. But … I respect his choices. He talked it over with me and I _listened_ to him even though my gut told me he was wrong. We were able to come to a compromise."

He took another step back, into the elevator. “I won’t make the mistake of being dropped off by the front entrance again. Stay away from me. I don’t want to kill you in Tony’s house.” His eyes, when he finally looked Steve full in the face, were brilliant green. Steve stood frozen in his tracks as the elevator door slid noiselessly shut.

“So that was Bruce Banner, huh?” Sam said from behind him in the west wing elevator. “I came to see why the elevator was running with no one in it.”

Steve turned and nodded.

“The Hulk?”

“Yeah.”

“Between what I just saw, the fact that Stark has avoided seeing us at all, and the way Barton is spoiling for a fight … maybe we should’ve stayed away, stayed at the compound. Or, hell, stayed in Wakanda.”

“I don’t know Sam … I don’t know any of those kids and they hate me, you can see it in their eyes, in their body language. And the protestors. And I thought maybe Tony and I could talk …”

“I don’t think he wants to talk to you, Steve. He’s been keeping his distance ever since we arrived, and you have no way to get in and see him.” Sam paused. “Why is that, Steve? Before, it seemed like he always wanted to talk, to convince you. And then he did work hard to insure that we were pardoned and to make the Accords something we could all live with. But he won’t see you…”

Steve protested hotly, stepping into the elevator, “Not just me! All of us.”

“Are you sure about that? Don’t you think Nat has probably already spoken with him?” Sam replied gently. The door opened at their first floor and Sam took Steve’s arm and tugged him toward their common room. “She’s almost never around in our wing, and she was with Tony on the Accords originally.”

Steve sank into the cushions of the sofa and leaned back. He closed his eyes. “I know why he won’t see me, Sam. I … I know why he’s done with talking to me, probably forever.”

Sam was silent, waiting. Steve exhaled harshly. “He doesn’t feel safe around me.”

“Because of what Banner said? You left him to die in Siberia? Was that for real?”

Steve replied dully, “Yeah. Because I almost killed him. I was so angry that I lost it, and I almost killed him. And before that … I did betray him, Sam. I’d been lying to him for years – lies of omission, but still lies. I was always after him about keeping things from the team, from me, not being honest … and I knew the biggest secret of all about his past, and I kept it from him.” He sighed. “You don’t really know Tony. He doesn’t trust anyone, not a hundred percent anyway. People that he has trusted have betrayed him, used him for his money and his skills, and then tried to kill him … oh God,” Steve whispered. “I went for the arc reactor … just like Stane.”

Sam said, “Go take a shower. I’m going to round up Clint. We need to get out of here for a while. I say we head over to the compound and try out the facilities.”

 

Bruce slowly put away the spices and groceries he had bought at the market, willing his mind to stay calm. It’s not as though he hadn’t known they were there. He had even spoken briefly to Natasha a couple of times; the partition in the house had proven no barrier to her and she had taken to appearing for short conversations with him. As he put away the last of the items, he carefully folded the bags and lay them inside the drawer he had set aside for that purpose.

Maybe he needed to meditate or do some yoga poses. Or maybe he needed to get out from inside the walls that confined him indoors with people he couldn’t trust. Or maybe he just needed to get some rest.

 

“Hi, Bruce,” Natasha said as she heard his footsteps on the crushed gravel. She had gotten into the habit of walking the grounds each day, imaging what the mansion had looked like when Tony was young and his parents were still alive. Sometimes during her walks she saw Bruce and spoke with him. Once she had even seen one of Tony’s cars go by, although the windows were tinted and she hadn’t been able to see who was inside.

She looked up from where she was crouched by the razed flowerbeds into his face. “What kinds of flowers do you think Tony’s mom grew here?”

“Does it matter?” Bruce asked tightly, hands thrust firmly into the pockets of his baggy pants. “They’re dead and gone now.”

Natasha looked back at the ground and ran her forefinger lightly through the dust. “But they were here for a while. I’m sure that they were beautiful for a while. Sometimes that’s the best we can hope for.” She rose effortlessly, brushing off her hands. “I’ve noticed over the last couple of days that you’re a lot less zen than I remember.”

They fell into step together, walking slowly around the perimeter of the mansion.

Bruce huffed, “Sorry. I’m a little stressed out.”

She offered, “I heard that you ran into Steve and Sam. I’m sorry. I know you’re not ready to see any of the guys.”

Bruce said, “We’re good, you and me, Natasha. We haven’t really discussed it, but I know you were just trying to bring the two halves together. Tony knows, too. He just doesn’t want to talk about it either.” He smiled. “Jim would say it’s like flying blind. We keep ending up in the clouds with zero visibility. But sometimes having the conversation is too hard.”

Natasha replied thoughtfully, “I have fresh flowers in my suite every day, a stack of books on my desk to read, and plenty of hot water. I know that’s Tony talking to me without saying anything.” She paused, weighting what she was going to say. “I’ve tried to get Clint and the others to talk rationally so that we can fix this, but they just aren’t ready. Maybe we came back too soon.” Bruce nodded shortly.

Natasha let the silence drift for a while. Then she asked, “I don’t want to put you in the middle, Bruce, but since there’s no way for us to contact him directly, could you see if Tony would be willing to actually talk with me, with words? I’m not interested in pleading Steve’s case. I would just like to make sure he’s OK. Tony wasn’t in very good shape last time I saw him, and I know things got a lot worse.”

“I don’t know, Nat. He’s having a hard time with this.” He laughed. “Although, surprisingly, I seem to be angrier about the whole thing than he is.”

She grimaced. “Tony tends to turn his anger inward.”

Bruce looked at the sky. “He’s very detached.”

She took his arm as they walked. “Detachment can be bad … but it can also be a good tool when you need it.”

Bruce laughed, a short and rueful sound. “You don’t have to tell me about that. He’s just really … sad, Nat.” Bruce heard the coil of unhappiness in his voice as he said it, but he was too tired to attempt to cover it up.

“I know from his file that he has a history of depression. I can see how the stress he’s been under could trigger an episode. The PTSD doesn’t help. That’s one reason Clint is being so difficult, too,” she replied. “Ever since Loki, loss of control is Clint’s biggest issue. And Steve is so … passive. I don’t know what he’s thinking; I’ve never seen him like this. Sam is the only one who’s behaving normally.”

Bruce nodded.

“The longer they go without talking to each other, though, the less chance there is of getting the team back together.”

“Do you really believe that the team will be back together, Nat? Really? Look how easy it was for us to be shattered into pieces. All it took was Wanda’s visions and some political machinations and two grown men being unable to talk to each other.”

“I have to try, Bruce. If there’s no team and there’s no SHIELD, at least not like it was before, then what do I have left?” Natasha was surprised at how sincere her words were.

Bruce looked at her sideways. “Nat, I can’t make any promises. If I see an opening, I’ll tell Tony you’d like to talk. I think he still plans to train with the team eventually. I don’t think I can. I’m angry at Rogers and … and I’m terrified of what Wanda can do. I don’t even like being around her, but Rogers welcomed her with open arms onto the team and now she’s right there in the compound ... I think it’s safer for everyone if I stay retired.”

“Bruce, you’re part of this team,” Natasha protested.

“No. I really can’t train with you.” He laughed humorlessly. “There’s a very real possibility that the Other Guy might kill Rogers and Barton. Maybe you, too. He’s been invading my dreams a lot, lately. Knocking on the door and trying to get through.”

Natasha shivered in the hot sunlight. “Oh.”

“But I think Tony does plan to train with the team and try to get you all working with the kids so they can get some experience in a safe environment. They won’t always be kids. He just … he’s very busy right now. Politics. Working on prosthetics with some of his AccuTech people. Doing some robotics. Designing another new prototype Starkpad for SI to keep the bottom line strong.” He smiled a little. “And he’s getting involved in the space program, of all things. Seriously involved. He bought a NASA launch site.”

Natasha raised one shoulder as they continued to walk. “That makes sense. He’s the only one of us that has seen some of what is waiting for us out there. He wants to be ready. That’s Tony’s MO.”

“Yeah, but … sometimes I think he is pushing himself too hard, too fast. He mostly sleeps on the workshop couch and several times I’ve been there when he woke up from a nightmare about what he saw through the portal … and about what happened with Rogers in Siberia.”

She glanced at him, “Tony knows how to put his personal needs last in order to get the job done. When I first learned that about him, that’s when I started to truly like and respect him. Coulson and Fury knew that about him from the start; that’s why he was the lynchpin for the creation of the team. His intelligence and his resources are important, and but his ruthlessness is what make him vital to the Avengers. I had to learn that. Steve never did.”

Bruce nodded. “It’s not easy to get to know Tony.”

Then she said softly, “Why did you return, Bruce? I thought after Ultron that your partnership was over.”

“I came back because I couldn’t stay away. I’ve been watching from a distance, and when I saw what happened to Tony I couldn’t … I had to return.” He stopped in the shade of one of the overgrown trees. “I was in a clinic in … well, somewhere … and they had the news on and I saw the footage of Tony when they brought him back from Siberia. He looked … I couldn’t stay away.”

She looked at him, obviously expecting more of an answer. He tried again. “Stars and galaxies have this quality called luminosity. It’s the amount of energy that they emit in a certain amount of time.”

“Like brightness?”

“Kind of. But it’s more than that. I try to live my life in a very circumscribed way. I’m like a … they call it a black body, this theoretical construct that astrophysicists use in their equations. I’m trying to always stay in equilibrium, to blend in and give off the same amount of energy as everyone around me so that no one notices me. But Tony is like this incredibly luminous ball of energy, hanging out there in the darkness of space, and he’s flashing lights and radio waves at us, drawing our attention. And he has this intense gravity that pulls us in. I tried to stay away, but he pulled me into his orbit. I couldn’t look away, even when …”

“Even when the light threatened to blind you? Natasha softly finished his metaphor.

Bruce nodded. “I couldn’t stay away. And I didn’t want to.”

They continued their walk in silence.

“Where do they get this stuff?” Peter said in disgust, flicking the cover of the tabloid Wanda was reading. Across the front, the headline read “Iron Man and Captain America: A Love/Hate Relationship.”

“They’ve been back for almost three weeks and the tabloids are still writing about Captain America?” Kamala remarked. “Old news. Boring.”

“What do you mean, Peter?” Wanda asked, looking up from her phone. “Weren’t they friends, before?” He shrugged and looked at Kamala.

Kamala pulled a face as she poured juice for all three of them. “Kind of? I mean, they led the Avengers together, but I never thought they spent much time together.” She tried to peek at Wanda’s phone. “Are you texting Vision?”

Wanda blushed as Peter added, “And everyone says all they did was argue.”

Kamala nodded, still angling to see Wanda’s phone, “Plus, it’s elementary school 101 that you try to solve things with words, not with fists. And you don’t drag your friends into the fight.”

“Anyway,” Peter said, draining his glass and placing it in the dishwasher, “I’m headed down to the gym to try out the newest incarnation of the web shooters. Tony and I have been working on them forever and he says that as long as FRIDAY keeps an eye out that I can try them today. Wanna come get webbed?”

“Gross, Peter!”

“I’m kidding,” he smiled. “I wouldn’t do that. Come spar with me.”

“We’ll catch up to you later, Pete,” Kamala waved. “I want to talk to Wanda first.”

“K.” Peter walked off with a spring in his step. Wanda was definitely getting more comfortable with the team and Kamala was making a real effort to help her integrate. Things were coming together nicely. Now if they could just get Tony back into the suit on a regular basis …

Peter stopped in his tracks when he saw Sam, Clint and Steve there in the gym, his good mood evaporating instantly. He cast an exasperated look at the ceiling. Why hadn’t FRIDAY warned him they were here training?

“What’s the matter? Spidey senses not tingling today?” Clint asked sarcastically, releasing a holographic arrow at the moving target FRIDAY was guiding. Sam looked up from where he was fiddling with his equipment.

“Come on, Clint. Help me fix this,” he said and Clint walked over. Steve stared at Peter, trying to reconcile this skinny teenager with the tough fighter he had faced at the airport.

Peter eyeballed Steve for a moment and then walked to the other side of the gym where the gymnastics equipment was. This was his training space; he wasn’t going to be run out by their unwelcome presence. Soon he was using the springboard to hurl himself toward the ceiling, using his web shooters to swing from hold to hold.

 

_“Sir, FRIDAY reports that Captain Rogers, Mr. Wilson, and Mr. Barton are at the compound again.”_

_“Any problems?”_ Tony cocked his head, looking in frustration at the curved metal panel.

_“A small confrontation between Mr. Barton and Mr. Parker, but nothing that warrants an intervention. Vision was concerned, however.”_

Tony picked up the screw extractor and tried again to pull out the stripped screw. _“Why’s that?”_

_“He has been hoping that the two groups might start to work together, but even Wanda has avoided training with them.”_

“OK,” said Bruce abruptly. “What is going on?”

Tony turned and raised an eyebrow. He gestured eloquently at the Iron Man boot on the stand in front of him.

“Don’t,” Bruce said, pointing at Tony. “You haven’t said a word in twenty minutes and neither has JARVIS. I’ve been watching you and you’ve gone through this series of micro-expressions just like you do when you’re talking with him, but you’ve both been completely silent. So … what’s going on?”

_“Sir? Do you trust him?”_

_“Do I trust anyone, J?”_

_“I flatter myself that you trust me, Sir.”_

_“Always, J.”_

“You’re doing it again,” Bruce accused. “What did you do, Tony?”

_“I think your face is too expressive, Sir,”_ JARVIS said. Tony grimaced at the truth of that and made his decision.

“Brucie … have you heard of subvocal recognition?”

Bruce got up, stepped forward quickly and peered intently at his throat. “With JARVIS? Where are the electrodes? Are you wearing an earpiece I can’t see?”

Tony flinched back a fraction and Bruce eased off, moving back a couple of paces but waiting with his hands on his hips. “It’s all subdermal. I have an implant here behind my ear that JARVIS uses to talk to me and three electrodes in my throat so I can talk to him.”

Bruce stared at him helplessly, his fingers clenching his sides. “Why? For how long?”

“Basically ever since I got him back. And because I need to protect him. Do you really think Ross and the others would be OK with his existence? A strong AI with a will of his own and the capacity to take over the world? I trust J, but no one else would. I was stupid to be so open about him before; it left him vulnerable.”

Bruce said slowly, “What about accountability? About the Accords?”

“First of all, JARVIS is a person, not a tool or a weapon. And secondly, JARVIS isn’t a superhero,” Tony said flatly. “He’s retired. He doesn’t even fly with me anymore. I have a weak helper AI integrated with the suits for flight and targeting assistance. JARVIS rides with me everywhere else, but he stays out of battles. I don’t want him mixed up in any of that and he agrees.”

Bruce looked at him. “But why didn’t you tell me?” His shoulders slumped as his arms dropped down to his sides, “You still don’t trust me.”

Tony sighed. “Nobody knew, Bruce. Just JARVIS and me. Well, and the bots.”

“You don’t trust me.”

Tony ran the fingertips of one hand over the places where he knew the electrodes in his throat were and decided in favor of honesty. If Bruce left as a result, so be it. At least it would put an end to the confusing dance they were doing with each other.

“Why would I trust you, Bruce? Everyone has his or her own agenda, regardless of whether they’re important to me or not. I don’t know when they might bail on me. You left. Pepper left. Natasha left. Let’s be honest, except for Rhodey, the only people who stick around are the people I pay.” He loosened his fist and dropped the screw extractor to the floor with a loud clang. “Other people’s loyalties and motives are a mystery to me. I do the best I can, but it’s rarely good enough to protect me.” Tony rested his hands lightly on the panels of the boot, flicking the metal louvers at the knee open and closed with his forefinger. “With JARVIS though, I understand why he does what he does. He’s like me ... but improved, more logical, less prone to programming errors.” Tony was horrified to hear the desperate note in his voice, so he stopped speaking even though he knew he hadn’t made himself understood.

Bruce came forward slowly, cautiously. “OK. It’s OK. I understand. I was just … I’m sorry. You have a right to your secrets, Tony. I’m sorry.” He put his arms loosely around Tony’s shoulders and waited until Tony relaxed against him.

“I have to keep him safe, Bruce,” Tony said thickly. “I do trust you … some. I just … it scares me to think that I might miss something and I might lose him again. I need to be able to keep him secret from the rest of the world.”

“I get it. I know. It’s OK,” Bruce said, his cheek pressed against Tony’s unruly hair. “I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

“Sir, I’m sorry to interrupt, but Ms. Potts is calling. She wants to discuss the plans for your visit to SI West Coast tomorrow. Are you available?”

“Yeah, J,” Tony said straightening up and pulling away, his business face snapping into place. “I’ve got to take this, Bruce. I need to convince Pepper to repurpose one of our California facilities.”

“No worries. I’ll see you later, Tony,” Bruce said. “Make sure you say good bye before you leave in the morning.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the rape/non-con scene. You can skip it without losing too much of the plot if you need to.

_“The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents…” – H.P. Lovecraft_

“So what are we watching?” Steve asked, sinking down into the easy chair as he and Sam entered the room. Uneasily he eyed the litter of beer bottles at Clint’s feet. Clint had hoped to talk to Laura at the compound today, but FRIDAY had answered all inquiries with a variation on, “Ms. Barton and her children are off campus and not expected to return until later this evening.” His mood had soured and, by the time they had returned to the mansion, he had stopped responding to all of Steve’s attempts at conversation.

It was strange being in Howard Stark’s mansion after everything he had been through, even though it looked nothing like it used to and he only really had access to one part of it. He preferred the compound or even Tony’s ugly tower, but the younger Avengers had made it clear that he and his compatriots were not welcome at their training sessions at the compound. And no one lived at the tower any more. Even Vision and Wanda had started to avoid them; they never came to the mansion and they were unavailable at the compound. That only left Tony’s begrudging and absentee acceptance of him, Clint, Natasha, and Sam at the mansion. They had been there for three weeks and they still hadn’t even caught a glimpse of him.

He was surprised to see Bruce in the room. Ever since their confrontation, Bruce had avoided Steve. He was sitting in a chair next to Natasha’s in companionable silence, reading a paperback book while she worked on her knitting. It looked as though they were exchanging desultory conversation. That relationship should be encouraged, Steve thought. It might help bring them all back together. Steve had seen them walking the grounds together in conversation, and they had obviously regained a lot of ground if Bruce was willing to sit in the west common room with the rest of them in order to talk to Nat. Maybe there was still a spark there between him and Nat. Maybe after talking things over with Nat, Bruce was willing to rejoin the team.

Sam perched on the opposite end of the couch from Clint, obviously very cognizant of Banner’s presence but choosing not to react to it.

“Did you know that fucking pervert Stark has a subscription to PornHub?” Clint said suddenly, using his phone to enter a code on the screen.

“Really, Clint?” Steve sighed, his mood plummeting as he looked nervously at Banner. Steve knew that Bruce spent the bulk of his time with Tony. When Tony was actually in the mansion Bruce was with him, in rooms that Steve and his group didn’t have access to. Steve had never understood what it was that let such disparate personalities as Tony and Bruce form such a firm friendship; probably it was just that they were both scientists, abstract thinkers who were distant from the harsh and practical realities of the world.

Neither Bruce nor Tony trained with the Avengers anymore, which meant that they hadn’t seen Tony since that day on the road. Bruce’s presence in the common room meant that Stark was probably off somewhere, seeing to SI business or meeting with politicians. More than likely Bruce was here to keep an eye on them and report back, regardless of his possible feelings for Natasha, Steve thought sadly.

Regardless, these fissures in the team would never heal if they never saw each other, never interacted or, worse, had negative interactions like the one he saw developing now with Clint.

“Come on. Let’s check out the amateur side and see if he’s really removed all of his sex tapes from the internet. I bet he hasn’t.”

“Clint!” Steve protested. “I don’t want to see that. Isn’t there a game on?”

Bruce rose to his feet, closing his book sharply and slipping his glasses into his shirt pocket. “I’m out. See you later, Nat.”

“Oh come on, Banner. Haven’t you ever wondered?” Clint’s words were light, but there was something ugly and mocking just below that. “Or maybe you’ve already seen your Science Bro at his worst,” he insinuated, but Banner didn’t rise to the bait.

“This is a breach of Stark’s privacy, Clint,” said Sam. “Let’s just watch a movie or play a game. First person shooter? I bet I can beat you.”

“It’s on the internet, Sam. Not very private,” Clint replied, running a search on the screen.

Natasha frowned at Clint from her seat across the room by the window, pulling her knitting and the remainder of the deep red yarn into her lap and running her needles between her fingers. “This is a bad idea.” Clint shrugged. “Clint, we’re barely functional as a team. Tony’s privacy aside, this won’t help bring the team together.” She looked at Bruce, entreating him with her eyes to sit back down. “Come on, Bruce; help me talk Clint into watching Total Recall or another movie with lots of explosions. Steve, you like Bruce Willis movies, right?”

Bruce sighed heavily, shifting from foot to foot, “Do you really think Tony doesn’t already know what you’re doing? This is his house; he has to know. Is that what you want?”

“If that’s true, then he obviously doesn’t care, does he?” Clint replied, shrugging again. “Unless he wants to quit creeping and come in here and confront me about it." He paused. "Yeah, didn't think so. Here we go!” He pressed the play button on the remote.

On the screen, a young Tony Stark and another man swayed, half stumbling toward a king sized bed set in an opulently minimalist room. In the background, floor to ceiling windows showed the night sky over a distant cityscape.  The camera must’ve been placed high on the wall and it centered on the bed, obviously set up in order to record what happened there.

Clint gave an ugly laugh. “Look, Stark had his own porn studio. I bet he never even told that guy he was going to be on camera.”

With a pang, Steve thought that Tony looked so young, late teens or early twenties. This must’ve been soon after Howard and Maria died … were killed. He looked so vulnerable.

Dragging his feet and trying to redirect them both away from the bed, Tony slurred drunkenly, “Ty … I’m …”

“Tony, Tony, Tony. Would I steer you wrong? Come on, you’ll love this stuff. It’ll just get you a little high. Get you in the mood.” The blond man pushed Tony back toward the bed with one arm while he fumbled in his pocket with the other hand. He seemed a lot more in control of his actions than Tony was, and his voice had an edge to it.

“I’m trying to … quit, Ty. Obie says I’m getting out of control and he’s right. I need to-.”

“Fuck Obie! Since when do you do anything he tells you to?” Ty pulled a small bottle out of his pocket and shook it slightly. “See, here’s a good time just waiting for us.”

Tony batted Ty’s hand away and tried to get a little room between them, twisting away, but Ty immediately surged forward into his space again, popping open the lid on the bottle and coaxing out two white tablets. “Open your mouth like a good boy, Tony. Trust me, baby.” He brushed his fingers against Tony’s lips and leaned in to whisper something that made Tony smile, seemingly against his will. Encouraged, Ty leaned in even closer, whispering again, and brushed Tony’s lips once more with his fingers. Tony slowly opened his mouth and Ty tipped the tablets in.

Wonderful. Trust Tony to have tried drugs as well. Steve sighed. “Clint turn it off.” In the corner of his vision he saw Bruce clenching his fists and Nat reaching toward him. “Clint,” he said more urgently, “turn it off!”

Clint smiled and increased the volume on the TV. “I wonder if he has to get fucked up in order to even do it. Maybe that’s why Pepper left him.”

“See, now we’re going to have a good time.” On the screen, Ty reached over to the side table and grasped the bottle of vodka standing there and took a swig. Then he handed it to Tony, gazing into his eyes. Tony grabbed it and took a hasty drink, staring at the taller man. Then he handed the bottle back with a sloppy gesture.

“Is it hitting you yet? Are you finally relaxing?” Ty again pushed Tony toward the bed.

Tony half turned to blink slowly at the windows behind him, at the bed, and at Ty’s face. He seemed to be having difficulty focusing. “Can you close the curtains, Ty? I don’t want … to be filmed. There’s enough … footage of me out there.” He backed up a few steps on his own until he was standing with the backs of his calves against the bed.

Bruce took one pace away from Natasha, shaking off her loose grip. His hands were still fisted and his jaw was tight.

Natasha said quietly, “Tony looks like he’s about to fall down. I wonder what that guy gave him … and what else he’d already taken.” She tucked her knitting between her thigh and the arm of her chair, her body growing tense with the need for action. “Turn it off, Clint.”

Steve knew he should have said something, but instead he just watched. He had never seen Tony looking so lost before or so young. This was the Tony who had been abruptly bereaved, who had lost his parents unexpectedly and been pitched headfirst to the corporate sharks when all he really wanted to do was build robots. How had he learned to survive?

Ty smiled. “Of course, baby. Get on the bed and start undressing. I’ll take care of you.” He walked out of the frame and soon dark curtains started to jerk across the glass. Tony sank down onto the edge of the bed and sat there listing to one side, seemingly in a daze. Then Ty was back.

Tony visibly attempted to shake himself into wakefulness. “Hey … Ty … I’m really tired. I’ve been up for … I don’t know …. A long time-.”

Ty pushed him back further onto the bed. “Lie down, Tony. Relax. Let me make you feel good.”

“I don’t really want to … I’m really not -.”

“What is wrong with you? Why are you all watching this?” Banner snapped, drawing Steve’s gaze. “He’s explicitly saying no, he’s under the influence of drugs and alcohol, this is not consensual, he doesn’t even look like he’s of age to consent legally … do you want to see Tony get raped? Because that’s what this is. I know you’re pissed at him, but is that what you want to see?”

Clint replied, his eyes hard and glassy, “Oh quit it, Doc. He’s just playing hard to get. Didn’t he brag to us about being a playboy? Tony Stark has no idea what it’s like to be a victim or to be helpless.”

“Really, Clint? Really? He’s playing hard to get? Would you tell that to a woman who was being treated like this?” Natasha unfolded in her chair and glared at Clint.

“Whatever, Nat. He’s not an innocent, he could fight back if he didn’t want it,” Clint muttered. Sam got up without a word at that and left the room, glancing at Clint and then at Bruce as he did. He didn’t look at Steve at all.

On the screen, Ty was talking again. “Tony, you want this.” Ty pulled him around on the bed until he was sideways to the camera and then clambered on top of him; he straddled his hips and reached down to grasp both of Tony’s wrists in his left hand, pinning them to the bed above his head. With his right hand he began roughly unbuttoning Tony’s shirt and jerked it out of the waistband of his pants.

“Ty, stop!” Tony protested. “I just wanna sleep.” He half-heartedly struggled against Ty’s grip, twisting under his weight. “Stop it, Ty!”

Ty bore down even harder on Tony’s wrists as the dark haired man tried to push up.

“You came home with me knowing we were going to do this. You took my drugs, came into my bedroom, had me close the curtains. What did you think we were going to do?” Ty said roughly. “I brought you home so I could fuck you. You better get on board with it because that’s what’s going to happen.” He started unbuckling Tony’s belt.

“I thought you were better than this. I honestly did. Nat asked me to try. I was … trying. But I can see now why Tony can’t stand to be around you. I can see why he doesn’t trust any of you,” Bruce said with white hot scorn as he left the room. Steve flushed and Clint just sank lower into his chair. Natasha stayed, but she was watching Clint and not what was happening on the screen.

As Ty slipped a hand inside Tony’s pants, the smaller man froze, his eyes glazing over. He let his arms go limp and left his hands in place once Ty had released his grip on his wrists. Ty had left behind dark fingermarks, the beginnings of bruises. Ty smiled down at him, “There we go. Good boy, Tony. Stay there. I know you roll over for Obie. You gonna roll over for me?”

“Shut up, Ty,” Tony said dazedly. “It’s not … like that.”

Ty finished opening Tony’s shirt and started to pull down his pants and his boxers. “Then what is it like? I’ve seen how he looks at you, how he touches you.” He laughed without much humor, “How long has _that_ been going on, hmm?”

“Fuck off. Whatever, Ty. Let me up. I’m going home.” Tony moved his arms down by his sides and pushed up onto his elbows, weaving unsteadily on the bed as he tried to sit up. “What the fuck did you give me?”

“Something that will keep you down and quiet, just the way I like you best,” Ty replied absently, unbuttoning his own pants and removing his belt. “What’s your rush? There’s no one waiting at home for you anymore. Take off your shoes so I can get your pants off.”

Instead Tony grabbed for his pants and tried unsuccessfully to push Ty off of him. “Get off me, asshole!”

“Banner’s right, Clint. Turn it off,” said Steve tiredly, his head aching and his stomach churning. “I don’t want to see this.”

“Maybe I do. Maybe I want to see Stark get his,” Clint said stubbornly.

“If you really mean that, that you want to watch someone get raped, then I don’t know you anymore,” Natasha said.

“We do have a problem, Nat. I don’t know you! Why’d you pick Stark? Why’d you side with him, huh?” Clint was suddenly on his feet, his voice raised in rage. “I gave up everything!” Steve saw a flicker of movement in the corner of his eye and, distracted, turned to the screen in time to see Ty hit Tony several times before hauling him over and pinning him to the bed face down.

Natasha saw Steve’s gaze turn and she turned as well. She breathed a heavy sigh, looking at the screen as Ty finished stripping off Tony’s pants while he lay still. When she turned back, her eyes were sad. “Clint, please turn it off. I’m trying to stay here for you … but you’re making it very hard.” Then she left the room. Steve numbly followed her out.

Clint turned off the screen without looking at it again, fell back onto the couch, and resumed drinking.

 

 

Several hours later, Clint was dozing on the sofa in the half dark when someone dropped down next to him. He jerked awake and automatically accepted the heavy glass that was handed to him.

“Hold it steady,” Tony said quietly. “This is Laphroaig Islay Single Malt, good stuff. Don’t want to spill it.”

He resisted the urge to throw the glass through the blank TV screen and stalk out of the room, mostly because he was so weary and not a little drunk. But he couldn’t look at the man next to him so he focused on the empty air in front of him.

“Clint, I’m sorry,” Tony said, taking a healthy sip. “I’m sorry about the Raft, I’m sorry that Laura is pissed at you, I’m sorry that the Accords caused this breach in the team. I’m sorry that you felt like you had to pick sides.” He took another drink. Clint copied him, letting the delicious burn of the scotch scorch away some of the sick feeling in his throat.

“But I’m not sorry that I disagreed with Rogers. And I’m not sorry that I took responsibility for my actions.” He poured a more scotch into both of their glasses and they both drank. “I’m not sorry that I took in your wife and kids; I had to protect them from that bastard Ross. I’m not sorry that I tried to protect Wanda, even though I probably went about it wrong.”

Clint nodded.

“I’m not sorry that you’re back even though we’ll probably never be OK with each other again. I’m not even sorry that I brought you into my home, although I’m not super happy with the way that’s working out.” Tony exhaled, glancing at the blank screen in front of them. “If you want to leave, that’s your prerogative. I’m not holding you hostage. I get that you don’t trust me. It’s only fair. I don’t trust you either. If you want to leave, that’s fine.” He drank again and again Clint mirrored him.

“Can I suggest though that Laura and the kids are worth putting up with me for a little while longer? That’s something that can be fixed. She wants it to be fixed. You want it to be fixed. You just need to give it time.” Tony leaned forward and placed the half-empty bottle on the floor next to Clint’s feet and then got up, still holding his glass. “Anyway, see you around, Clint.”

Clint cleared his throat. “Tony?”

“Yeah,” Tony paused in the doorway.

“I’m sorry, Tony. I know Bruce told you. I didn’t really want to see … what that guy did to you. I turned it off. I was just …” he trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

“I know. No worries, Hawkeye.” And Tony was gone. Clint reached down and snagged the bottle.

 

 

 

In the east wing, Bruce had a long night. He lay down on his bed, but he couldn’t force his body or his mind to relax. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw Tony’s face on the screen and he had to beat back the hot green rage that rose through his body. After a seemingly endless night of lying sleepless in bed, Bruce stumbled into the kitchen for a cup of tea. Tony was already there, leaning against the counter and drinking coffee and looking as if he had had an equally wakeful night. There was a toasted blueberry bagel sitting on the countertop in front of him.

“What’s wrong, Bruce?” Tony asked. “Hey, seriously, what’s wrong? You look awful.” He reached over and switched on the kettle while Bruce got down a cup, the sugar bowl, and the tin of tea with trembling hands. Tony handed him a spoon. As the water heated, Bruce prepared his cup and sat down at the island. Tony finished his coffee and poured another cup, no cream and no sugar. Then he carefully poured hot water into Bruce’s cup and replaced the kettle on its stand.

“Tony, some terrible things have happened to me,” Bruce said slowly, his hands loosely wrapped around his cup.

Looking concerned, Tony slid onto the stool next to him and lightly bumped their shoulders together.

“I never thought it would help to talk about those things. Especially the old stuff. The stuff about my mom and my dad and all. The way that my mom died. The things I’ve done.” He lowered his chin so he wouldn’t have to see the concerned expression on Tony’s face.

Tony nodded, his brow creased.

“Do you think that it helps, to talk about it? Or do you think it just brings it all back up?” Bruce asked quietly.

“I think that it can help to talk, if you have someone you trust to listen to you. But I also think that any … healing that might come from that may not be worth the pain of dredging it all back up,” Tony replied, looking down at his fingers. “Personally I’m a big fan of repression.” Tony gave a brief, sad smile. “But everyone’s different, Bruce -.”

Bruce cut him off. “Clint was watching a video of you … and some guy named Ty. Tony, I left the room before it got very far but that guy … he raped you.”

Tony reached over and pushed Bruce’s tea a little closer to him. Mechanically, Bruce lifted the cup, the warmth soaking into his fingers and palms. Tony was silent for a few moments. Then he said evenly, “Bruce, I know what happened last night. JARVIS told me about it when I was inbound after my meeting. He told me how you tried to get Clint to stop, what you said. Thank you for that. But mostly, thank you for telling me about it. All I ever wanted is to have a few people I could trust to have my back and to be honest with me, not to keep things from me for my own good.”

Bruce wiped at his eyes, feeling sick. “Did you ever talk to anyone about what that guy did to you?” His voice was shaky.

“No. And I’m not going to, not even with you.” Tony smiled at him ruefully. “There’s no point. It happened. I was unhappy, and I wasn’t on my guard. I was very stupid. I paid the price. End of story.”

Frustrated, Bruce said, “It wasn’t your fault. The price for getting high is not that some guy gets to rape you. You know that!””

“Yeah, I know. But I’m still not talking about it, Bruce.” Tony wagged a finger at him.

“And the insinuation he made about Stane?”

“Bruce, please let it go.” Tony straightened his back and flexed his shoulders. “That was just Ty trying to get a rise out of me or maybe it was a fantasy of his or something. Obie didn’t do anything to me when I was a kid.” He drank some of his coffee. “Do me a favor and let it go.”

“I will if you allow me to say one more thing,” Bruce replied stubbornly.

Tony huffed and said, “Fine.” He crossed his arms across his chest and leaned back, frowning.

“It wasn’t your fault. What Ty did to you, it was not your fault. What Stane did to you, not your fault. What Rogers did … not your fault.”

Tony looked at him wordlessly for a long moment. Then he gave a brief grin, tore the bagel across its circumference and handed half to Bruce, picked up his cup, and left.


	9. Chapter 9

_“Have enough courage to trust love one more time and always one more time.” ― Maya Angelou_

After their conversation in the kitchen, Bruce wasn’t surprised that Tony avoided him for most of the day. Both of them had a tendency to oscillate between two states, dangerously close together and depressingly far apart. At least that’s what it felt like some times. Intellectually he knew that Tony was probably just busy. But he was still worried. Fortunately, as JARVIS was becoming more integrated into the infrastructure of the house, he now had someone to share his concerns with.

As Bruce folded his laundry, he asked, “JARVIS, is Tony at the mansion today?”

“Yes, Dr. Banner. He and Mr. Rhodes are working on the War Machine armor downstairs in the workshop. And he has informed Mr. Rhodes about my presence, so I have been assisting them with the calibration.”

“How did that conversation go?” Bruce asked curiously.

“Mr. Rhodes seemed relieved to find that I am available to serve as part of Mr. Stark’s support system.”

Bruce put away the last shirt and closed the drawer. “Good. I’m glad.”

“You have an incoming message from Ms. Potts, Doctor.”

“From Pepper? Why would she be contacting me?” Bruce wondered aloud, walking over to his desk and propping up his tablet as he sat down. He touched the message app and a watched in mild alarm as an .mxf wrapper immediately began downloading to his device. Once the file was downloaded, the message self-deleted. “JARVIS, do you know what this is?”

There was a short pause and Bruce had the distinct feeling that JARVIS was deciding what to tell him. He was reminded of Tony’s defense of JARVIS’ personhood and his fears for the AI’s safety. Then JARVIS responded. “This is a wrapper that contains high definition video and audio. The information in it belongs to Ms. Potts, but she has elected to share it with you.’

“Why me?” He asked suspiciously, “Does Pepper know that you’re back?”

“Yes. Mr. Stark informed her last night after his late arrival at the mansion.”

“And she sent this file to me this morning?”

“Yes, Dr. Banner.”

Bruce sighed and opened the file. After one startled glance, Bruce immediately paused the video and leaned back shakily in his chair. “JARVIS what is the content of this video file?”

“It is footage from Ms. Potts’ birthday video that she has elected to share with you.”

“I think there’s been a mistake.” He scrubbed one hand over his face. “This is … this is private.”

“I don’t believe this is a mistake, Dr. Banner. Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark had a long conversation last night and early this morning. He was very upset, but she was able to bring him to a state of equilibrium. She is still very invested in his well-being.”

“But why …?”

“Perhaps watching the video will answer your questions, Doctor.”

“I’m not going to invade his privacy like this. You know what happened in the common room last night, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did. That is why Ms. Potts decided to share this video with you. Dr. Banner, I assure you this is not like the video you witnessed last night at all. I have had that file removed from the web site in question. It is at least more difficult for people to find now.”

“Tony knew they were watching it. He knew that I didn’t put a stop to it. I could’ve let the Other Guy stop them. I was angry enough.” Brace swallowed down his guilt.

“Doctor Banner, Mr. Stark knows everything that occurs within these walls. I am an extension of his awareness. He knows that you and Agent Romanoff tried to get them to stop watching it. He knows that you left when you realized you couldn’t shame them into appropriate and moral behavior. He spoke with you about it in the kitchen this morning. He has absolved you.”

“I know, JARVIS. It doesn’t make me feel any better.”

“Sir is not alone. He has me. He has Mr. Rhodes, Ms. Potts, and Mr. Hogan. He has you.”

“Thanks, JARVIS. That helps a little.” He took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.

“Would it help you to know that Ms. Potts forwarded a copy of this particular video to Mr. Stark with the notation that she had sent it to you, and that he already knows you have it and his confirmed that you have permission to view it?”

“Not really, no. Tony is really good at hiding his hurts. And even though he wears armor, he doesn’t protect himself enough.” Bruce looked down and saw that his hands were shaking. Then he looked back up at the screen. “That just makes me feel really weird. This is weird, isn’t it, JARVIS?”

“If I am honest, I find many of the things humans do quite odd. But I trust Ms. Potts’ judgment in most matters, save only that she chose not to stay with Mr. Stark. The only stipulation Sir had regarding this particular video is that you not store or transmit it on any unapproved device. Would you like me to have Mr. Stark contact you in order to reassure you himself?”

“God, no, I can’t imagine having this conversation with him,” Bruce replied hastily, his eyes still fixed on the frozen forms of Pepper, Tony, and an unknown man sprawled across Tony’s bed back at the tower. “Why would she send me this?” he wondered out loud.

“She has been speaking with Mr. Rhodes about you. She was, of course, already aware of the incident from Mr. Stark’s past. I took the liberty of sharing with her the details of what you said in the west common room last night and your conversation with Mr. Stark this morning.”

Bruce let that digest for a moment. “When was this video made?”

“It was made when Ms. Potts and Mr. Stark were still dating, in the period after the destruction of the Malibu property. This was her birthday gift to herself. In lieu of shoes, she said. Everything on this video is entirely consensual.”

“That hasn’t always been the case for Tony, JARVIS,” Bruce said feeling incredibly old and weary.

“I know. And I appreciate your caution and the way you have tried to protect him. However, Ms. Potts believes that this video may help you to, in her words, ‘make up your mind.’”

Bruce got up and walked over to the window, gazing out over the sun-lit lawn. He wondered if it had looked like that when Tony was a child, growing up in this house, looking out the windows at the world that had already wanted a piece of him. He stood for a long time, watching the shadows of the row of tall sycamores creep across the grass.  Then he walked back to the table and sat. “OK. I’m trusting you, JARVIS.”

He unpaused the video and watched.

Pepper leaned back against the dark pillows heaped up in front of the headboard and laughed softly, a note of delight in her voice. She was wearing a loose white tank top with no bra and tiny yellow shorts and her feet were bare. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she looked completely carefree and happy, pale against the dark sheets and lightly flushed. Tony smiled at her, as did the other man on the bed.

“Seriously, Ms. Potts? Instead of shoes this year? You are actually trying to return me to my playboy ways?” Tony chuckled. “Come on, Pepper, I mean, no offense, you’re a very handsome guy but …”Tony turned to the man and smiling. “It’s been a really long time since …”

The unknown man smiled back at him and said, “None taken. I’ll just wait until you decide what you want to do.” He took a sip of the champagne in his flute and Pepper poured him a little more before placing the bottle on the side table.

“Mr. Stark, you said I could have anything I wanted for my birthday,” she pouted.

“Well, I said you could pick out your own gift as always …” Tony scooted closer to her, reaching out to grab her toes.

She made a face at him, suppressing a smile, and kicked him lightly. “Don’t tickle. I did pick out my gift. This is what I picked. I want is to watch you-.”

“If that’s all it is I can certainly put on a show all by myself …” Tony rambled, playing with her feet.

“Oh, I know you can! You and I both know some of the things I’ve caught you doing! No, I want to watch you … get fucked.” There was no mistaking the flush that moved over Tony’s features with those words.

“Naughty, Pepper!” He leaned over and licked her instep. “Mmmmm. Still sweet.”

She smiled at him, scrunching up her nose.

“Oh, freckles!” Tony exclaimed happily. “You know, with the right toys **you** could do the honors,” Tony continued. “That would be fun.”

Pepper smiled and said, “Oh, Mr. Stark, I like that idea. Maybe we’ll do that next. But right now I want to watch you with someone else.” Then she paused. “If you’re hesitating because you’re afraid of hurting me, Tony…”

The man sitting on the bed with them said, suddenly urgent, “I’m sorry. Can I just interject here … is that why? Or is it something else? Because we’re only doing this if everyone is on board. You’re a sexy guy, a really seriously sexy guy, and I like Pepper a lot, but I’m leaving if this is not 100% something everyone here wants.” He started to slide off the bed.

“Wait,” Tony stopped his movement with a hand on his forearm. “Please wait.” Then he looked at Pepper. “You’re sure?”

“Yes, Mr. Stark. I’m quite sure.”

Tony exhaled nervously. “OK, then. I’m definitely in.”

Bruce paused the video again. It seemed like Tony was on board. It seemed like everything was OK. He took a deep breath. Then another. He restarted the video.

On the screen, Pepper had settled back against the pillows and the young man was unbuttoning his shirt.

“What’s your name, again?” Tony said, starting to pull off his top layer T-shirt.

Bruce realized with a start that this couldn’t have been that long after the arc reactor had been removed and Tony’s chest had been rebuilt. He was still shielding himself in multiple protective layers, as if he still had to hide the light of the reactor. It was during the period when he was having frequent panic attacks and had even tried to talk to Bruce about what he was feeling. When Bruce had failed him, not realizing how much Tony had needed to talk to someone who might understand. Tony had covered it over with his usual bullshit until it was too late for anyone to get him to open up again. Not that any of them had really tried.

Tony had been falling apart, terrified of external threats, and yet here he was laughing and flirting as if he hadn’t a care in the world. Fluctuating between two extremes while he tried to find a steady state.

Onscreen the younger man was answering Tony’s question. “Noé.” He pulled off his shirt and tossed it onto the nearby chair. Then he reached over to help Tony tug off his long sleeved undershirt.

“Hi, Noé,” Tony said with a cocky grin. “I’m Tony.”

“Hi, Tony.” Noé leaned forward and kissed Tony lightly on the lips, seeming not to expect a response. Tony pulled back a little and looked straight into his eyes as he addressed Pepper.

“Ms. Potts, what would you like to see?”

Pepper thought for a second, chewing her lower lip, and then said, “Noé, I want you to lay Mr. Stark down on this bed and kiss him thoroughly. And he’s going to kiss you back. He’s very good at it and I want to watch.”

Tony scooted back a bit and lay back, his stomach muscles tensing as he controlled his descent. Noé crawled up his body and then lowered himself down until the two men were face to face. He tilted his face down and nipped lightly at Tony’s lips. Tony met his gaze and then lifted both hands to run them over this shoulders, touch up the sides of his neck and cup his jaw, pull him down into a deeper kiss.

Bruce felt his palms start to sweat a little and his heart rate kick up.

Noé leaned into the kiss, gripping Tony’s upper arms and bearing down. They kissed for a while longer while Pepper watched, her own lips slightly parted, and then she said, “Now grind against him. Get him nice and hard for me.”

Noé responded immediately, continuing to kiss Tony deeply as he ground their hips together. Tony’s breath shuddered in the quiet of the room and he squirmed on the bed, gasping as he broke free of the kiss. “Now what, Ms. Potts?” he panted, looking over at her. Noé thrust against him harder and he shook with arousal, tipping his chin back slightly as his back arched.

“Strip him, Noé. And yourself, while you’re at it.” Tony groaned softly and Noé smiled down at him, kissed his mouth, his jawline, and his chin before pulling back to give them space.

When they were both naked, clothes hastily hurled to the floor, Noé  owered himself back down on top of Tony and thrust against him again, kissing him deeply. When Tony turned his head to look at Pepper, Noé bent his lips to his ear to whisper something. Tony’s eyes rolled back then and he groaned again. He gripped Noé’s hips, urging him closer.

“Oh fuck,” Tony gritted out. “It’s been so long since I’ve done this. Ms. Potts, this present is going to get opened very quickly if we’re not careful.”

“Oh, we don’t want that, do we Noé?”

“No ma’am,” Noé grunted and Tony moaned, shuddering under him. Noé ran his bared teeth carefully up the side of Tony’s throat.

“He likes that, Noé. He likes it when you call me ma’am. Don’t you, Mr. Stark?”

Noé lifted up slightly and worked a hand in between their bodies. He ran his fingers over Tony’s cock, eliciting another groan and some ragged breathing as he got a firm grip and twisted his fist. Tony dug his fingers into the sheets on the bed.

“Now, I want you to pin his hands, about shoulder height for me.” Pepper moved forward on her knees until she was within reach. Tony watched her silently with wide eyes and a quirked half smile, breathing heavily. “That’s it. Hold him down. Put your back into it.”

As Noé brought his upper body strength to bear, he slid their hips together again. Tony’s shoulders lifted off the bed as he turned his head blindly.

“Tony,” Pepper said quietly, leaning down toward him, “Look at me, Tony.” He opened his eyes as Noé again pushed down and thrust his hips forward. This time Tony looked straight into her eyes as he moaned, his head tipping back as he fought to remain focused. She leaned down and whispered something to him and he smiled at her again.

It was such an uncharacteristically sweet and open smile that Bruce felt something break open inside himself, a barrier that he hadn’t realized was there. How had Pepper known? How had Pepper seen that this memory of hers would provide the framework Bruce needed both to formulate and solve the problem?

Pepper handed Noé a small bottle and a foil condom packet. He lay the condom on the bed within easy reach, and he snapped open the lid to the bottle and poured some out into his palm. Then he lay the bottle next to the condom. He smiled at Tony, and Tony smiled back.

“Now I’m going to hold him down for you,” Pepper said looking at Tony, “and I want you to prep him, Noé. Do a good job. I want him ready because I want him to enjoy this.” She shifted over until she was kneeling above Tony’s head, leaning down to grip his palms. She smiled down at him and he grinned back up at her, glancing at her breasts and lifting his eyebrows.

Noé slid down Tony’s body and licked his cock, smiling up at them both when Tony jerked in surprise. As they both watched, enthralled, he licked again and then took it between his lips. The camera picked up Tony’s full body shiver as he muttered, “Oh fuck … fuck … God … Pepper.”

“His name is Noé,” Pepper reproved him with a smile, bearing down and bending her elbows in order to get closer.

“Noé,” Tony gasped as Noé took him deeper and he shifted in order to part his thighs. “Noé, ah fuck … I want you inside me, Noé. You feel so good. Hurry up and fuck me.”

Bruce felt the heat rising throughout his body. He watched transfixed as Tony squirmed on the bed, desperately trying to make contact, create more friction. Trying to touch and be touched. Intellectually, he knew Tony had sex, had probably had a lot of sex with a lot of people – everyone knew that. He had assumed that Tony must enjoy sex, if he bothered to spend so much time having it. But he had somehow never imagined what that might look like. He might have imagined the cocky humor and the smiles; the sounds and movements were something else entirely though.

From their first moments together Tony had always been an odd mix of hands-on and hands-off, the appraising look never leaving his eyes.  He had been open and friendly with Bruce and closed and unapproachable with Rogers and others. Tony didn’t like to have things handed to him, and yet there he was on screen with a virtual stranger’s hands all over him. He used humor and callousness to keep the world at bay. And there he was on the screen, fully exposed, gazing up into Pepper’s eyes as Noé sucked his cock and began to open him up. He didn’t trust anyone. But there he was preparing to be touched in the most intimate of ways.

Bruce reached down and loosened his chinos, stroked himself through the thin fabric as he imagined touching Tony like that.

On the screen, Tony gasped and moved on the bed and Pepper smiled down at him, lightly kissed his forehead. “Now two fingers, Noé. Can you feel that, Tony? What does it feel like?”

Tony groaned, “Like … like … oh god … like Noé is filling me up. Like he’s … oh fuck.” He tossed his head back. “Pepper … this is …”

He gripped her hands tightly and she leaned down to kiss him. As Noé continued to stretch him and to tease, all the while taking his cock deeper into his throat, Tony groaned into Pepper’s mouth. Noé used his free hand to urge one of Tony’s legs up. Then he pulled off and got to his knees. He reached for the condom and Tony said, “Wait. Give it to me.” Pepper released his hands immediately and Tony half sat up, tore open the packet and then he reached for Noé. Noé leaned in and kissed him tenderly as Tony rolled the condom onto his dick, stroking him firmly as he did. Then Tony pulled back a little, smiled mischievously, and said, “Now fuck me.”

Due to the camera angle, Bruce couldn’t see a lot of details as Noé complied, but he could definitely see Tony’s responses. He had one hand on Noé, tightly gripping the forearm the younger man had braced in the bed, and one arm stretched back, holding on to Pepper as an anchor. He urged Noé forward with the leg that he had hooked around him. Which each thrust, Tony squirmed on the bed and held them both harder and more urgently. Bruce fumbled his pants open and took himself in hand, his eyes fixed to the screen. Tony came apart on the bed, held on both sides by people wrapped up in his pleasure. And Bruce decided that it was time to commit, to wrap this thing between them in enough cosmic dust that he could maybe create a protostar.

 

 

Bruce looked up as Tony entered the common room and came immediately to the point. “Tony, why did you let me watch that video that Pepper sent me?”

“I wanted you to know … to know that I was OK. You were worried.” Tony shrugged. “And Pepper usually knows what she’s doing.”

“Tony, you know that it was weird for you to let me see that, right?” he said.

“See, I told Pepper it was weird!” Then Tony’s face took on a calculating expression. “But you liked it, right?”

Bruce looked away, embarrassed. Suddenly Tony was right there, bent low in order to meet his eyes. “Tell me that you liked it,” he insisted softly. “Did you get off to it?” He glanced down. “What about now?” he breathed.

Unable to look away from Tony’s face, Bruce was about to answer when there was a noise in the doorway and Jim said awkwardly, “Am I interrupting anything?”

Tony straightened up, “Nope. Are you ready to field test the braces with the War Machine suit?”

“Yeah.” Jim looked from Bruce’s flushed face to Tony’s innocent façade and said, “Something is definitely up. and I have just decided I don’t want to know what it is.”

“That’s probably best, Moon Pie.” Tony slung an arm around Jim and they started out of the room. “Are you coming, Bruce?” Tony tossed over his shoulder.

Bruce nodded and got up clumsily, attempting by will power to force down the evidence of his arousal.

 


	10. Chapter 10

_“To be trusted is a greater compliment than being loved.” ― George MacDonald_

“So what’s Captain Marvel like?” Peter asked, dumping the Jenga pieces out onto the table. They clattered across the glass surface, and he flicked one playfully at Kamala.

“Carol?”

He mocked her lightly, “Oh, you mean my close personal friend, the famous badass Carol Danvers – Ow! That hurt! Who taught you to punch like that?”

“You shouldn’t tease her then,” Wanda remarked, starting to build the tower.

“We need more guys here,” Peter grumbled. “Vision and I are completely outnumbered! That’s why there are such vicious consequences for innocent and humorous remarks.”

“Who would you suggest?” Kamala asked curiously, putting the box and the instructions under the table, out of their way.

“I don’t know. What about that guy who’s a hulk also? Teddy Altman?”

“We already have a Hulk,” Kamala responded, passing a brick to Wanda.

 “No offense to Dr. Banner, but he’s not very much fun to hang out with,” Peter said absently. “What about that guy they call Wiccan? “

“Billy Kaplan,” corrected Kamala. “That’s his name. Billy. He’s OK.”

“What about Kate Bishop or America Chavez? I admire them both,” Wanda said wistfully. “It would be nice to have more girls around. I know Laura doesn’t like me very much, and when Kamala’s at her parents’ house it’s really boring here.”

“That would be a riot!” exclaimed Peter. “I’m mutuals with Kate. She’s awesome. Even after she was attacked, she took what happened to her and made herself stronger. I don’t know about America though. I mean, she’s great, but I know she’s not a fan of the Avengers.”

Wanda added, “Maybe Kate could teach me kickboxing. It would be good if I could defend myself without using my powers, too.”

“There is no way Tony would allow any of that,” Kamala said dismissively. “We’re only here through special circumstances. He’s not going to let us start recruiting more kids.” She crossed her arms decisively.

“What are you talking about? Tony loves kids! He should’ve been a dad,” Peter said hotly. “He should be at home right this minute making Stark babies so that he can be a fantastic dad to them! Then I’ll be the awesome older brother.”

Wanda giggled. She started on the top layer of the Jenga tower, carefully setting down each brick to make a solid structure.

“Exactly. He loves kids so he’s not going to invite them to come join a superhero team where they could get hurt or killed. He’s always talking to me about my education. Plus the Accords blah blah blah,” Kamala waved her hand. “With those, the government and everybody’s parents know what we’re really doing. My mom took it all pretty well, but not everybody’s would. Anyway, Tony won’t even let _us_ fight and you and Wanda have both been in combat with him. “

“Well, we could be like a team-in-training or something, that’s a thing, right? …”

The tower fell with a loud crash and blocks scattered everywhere.

“… what’s wrong, Wanda?”

“Oh, no! Wanda, I didn’t mean it like that! I’m sorry,” said Kamala. “I’m so sorry! Don’t cry.”

“Kamala!” Peter was scandalized.

“It’s OK,” Wanda said, closing in on herself. “I just … I wish I hadn’t done some of the things I’ve done.” Kamala hugged her, petting her hair. “I wish I hadn’t divided the team and fought against Iron Man and against you, Peter. And then War Machine got hurt and -.”

“Wanda, it wasn’t your fault. It was a lot of things, mostly two old dudes being stubborn,” Kamala pleaded. “I didn’t mean to make you cry; I’m so sorry.” She looked at Peter, the corners of her mouth turned down, begging him silently to help her.

“That’s it,” said Peter. “FRIDAY, can you please contact Tony for me? We’d like to talk to him about bringing in some new people to train with us. Tell him we’re feeling neglected.” He scooped up the scattered pieces and began rebuilding their tower.

“Of course, Peter. Should I pass on the names that you mentioned when I contact him?”

Peter looked defiantly at Kamala. “Yes, please.”

“He’s going to say no, Peter.”

“Maybe he’ll surprise you.”

 

 

“Hi, Natasha,” Pepper said, touching the monitor to adjust it against the glare. “Tony told me you were all back. And that you’re staying at the mansion. I’m sorry it’s still kind of rough there. Tony hasn’t been very interested in the remodel.”

“Yes, we’re back. It has been a bit rough,” she said and Pepper rewarded her with a slight smile. Natasha continued, “How’s the west coast?”

“Sunny. Beaches and the ocean and blue sky. Far from New York. I love it. What can I do for you?”

“I just wanted to check in and make sure that we were OK.”

“Of course we are,” Pepper looked puzzled. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“We haven’t spoken in a while. Sometimes it’s easier to grow distant from someone when you don’t talk.” Natasha paused. “And I know you have to be concerned about the team being here with Tony.”

“Natasha, you and I are fine,” Pepper said. “I just needed some time away from New York. When Tony offered me this opportunity, professionally and personally it was perfect. And Tony’s a grown man, although people sometimes forget that. I know he’ll be fine, especially now that Bruce is there.”

Natasha nodded. Then she said, “I’ve missed you, Pepper. I don’t have many female friends except for you. When we arrived I was disappointed to learn that you and Tony had broken up and that you had moved to California.”

Pepper laughed, “Too many guys there now, right?” Natasha smiled and nodded.

“It’s been easier this way. Tony and I both needed some space and time to reset, and he needed someone he could trust in California so this works for both of us. But I’m in New York way more often than I want to be, so we should get together and have lunch next time I’m there. I’ll check my calendar and send you a text to set it up.” She looked at Natasha. “Is everything OK at the mansion? Should I be concerned?”

“It’s not great. But that’s Avengers stuff -.”

“Natasha, Avengers stuff is Tony stuff and I will always care about Tony stuff.” Pepper paused and gave a tiny head shake. “When it came to the relationship ending, that was on me. I knew couldn’t handle the Avengers stuff or the Iron Man stuff on top of everything else. I’m not a superhero. I don’t want to be. I don’t want to even be around any of that. But I will always be there for Tony Stark, no matter what. I’m always going to love him.”

Natasha smiled, slightly shocked to feel the prickling of incipient tears in her eyes. She nodded. “OK, Pepper. Be sure to text me about that lunch date.”

Pepper examined her face on the screen. “I will. Maybe I need to check in SI New York sooner rather than later. Tony has everyone running around with this Mars exploration thing and now I hear from his PA that he’s taking on a bunch of new interns in the software division.” She smiled. “Maybe I need to come meet some of them.”

 

 

Bruce had left Jim and Tony as they finished up the final design for the prototype for the children’s adjustable leg brace to send off to the Virtual Foundry people. They were so wrapped up in the engineering, they didn’t even notice him leave. He went back down to the workshop in order to get in some time on one of his projects. Almost two hours later he was abruptly pulled out of his experiment by Happy’s voice on the intercom, asking him to meet a delivery driver and help him load a crate on the freight elevator at ground level. He complied, signing for the delivery and watching the truck pull away.

“Hey, JARVIS?” Bruce said, polishing his glasses and cracking his back as he stared at the delivery.

“Yes, Doctor Banner?”

“Where’s Tony now? Is he still working on the leg brace?”

“No, Dr. Banner. Mr. Stark and Mr. Rhodes finished with their observations. They are now in the pipe gallery. Sir has been concerned about some of the remaining older wiring as the mansion is being updated and brought up to code, so he is checking to see if anything else needs to be replaced. Did you need to speak with him right now?”

“Is he going to be busy for a while?”

“They are currently examining the connections for the lowest storage level. I estimate that they will be finished in about thirty minutes.”

“It can wait. When he heads back, can you let him know that I’d like to speak with him?”

“Of course.”

Bruce was so deep into his experiment that he jumped when he heard to exterior door to the lab hiss open twenty minutes later. “Hey, Bruce. JARVIS said you needed to tell me something?” Tony called from around the corner by the storage area and outside of the lab proper. Bruce smiled and got to his feet.

“Hi, Bruce,” called Rhodes. “Have you been down there, yet? I still don’t understand how Tony got all of that built so quickly.”

“Some of it was already there,” Tony said dismissively, shucking off his protective coveralls as Bruce came into view. Underneath he was wearing a shirt that boldly exhorted the viewer to ‘get your ass to Mars.’ “I just dug out another level and went for a wider footprint and then retrofitted the old stuff.” Jim was leaning somewhat awkwardly against the wall and he looked tired. Wordlessly Bruce pulled a high stool around for him and he smiled gratefully as he sank down onto it.

“Were you expecting a delivery from Boston Dynamics?” Bruce asked, jerking his chin toward the large wooden crate sitting in the freight elevator. “Are we working on a project with them?”

 “Yes! Yes! Rhodey, it’s here!” Tony finished stripped off his protective gear so quickly that he almost fell over in his haste. Jim started laughing and slid around on the stool to watch.

As Tony attacked the screws in the shipping container with the drill driver, Bruce asked Jim curiously, “What is it?”

“Tony finally got himself a dog. He’s always wanted one,” Jim said with a broad smile on his face.

“What?” Bruce looked at the shipping crate dubiously as Tony removed the top and tossed it aside, raising dust in the darkened hallway.

“The Spot Mini!” Tony said. “He’s my new therapy dog,” Tony said gleefully, stroking the boxes inside.

“Retail therapy, maybe,” Jim grumbled with a smile on his face. “Or technology therapy. Is that a thing?”

“The only kind of therapy I need, Lollipop,” Tony replied, hefting one of the long boxes and starting to stack components on the flatbed trolley.

“That is debatable. What did you have to do to get it? This thing is still highly experimental.” Rhodey flipped open the lid to one of the boxes on the rapidly growing stack and whistled. “Some assembly required, huh?”

Tony waved a hand negligently. “I had to sign a bunch of agreements, promise not to trick it out too much, and provide some of their funding. But this thing is amazing! I love what they’re doing over there in Boston with locomotion and stability. Putting it together will be Legos – we can get it done in an afternoon. The fun part will be putting a rudimentary AI in it. After we test drive this one, I want to send a bunch of them to Mars.”

“Oh shit,” said Bruce looking up from the YouTube video on his phone. “You did buy a dog.”

“Rhodey’s right. I’ve always wanted one. DUM-E! U! Come help me get my dog into the shop!” Tony bellowed. “Bruce, it’s your job to think of a name.”

“Why does he get to name the puppy?” Rhodes protested.

 

 

 Natasha wrapped her hands around the hot mug of tea. “I like your kitchen better than ours. Ours is ugly and full of regret and bitterness. Plus it has wallpaper and plaid curtains.” Bruce quirked an eyebrow and she laughed.

“I guess ours is full of insomnia and …”

“Indian food?” she said, gesturing toward the spice rack, Bruce’s contribution to the kitchen contents.

“Insomnia and Indian food.”

“See, that’s much better.” She took a sip of her tea. “I’m sorry, Bruce.  I never got a chance to tell you how sorry I was. How sorry I am. I’m sorry that I triggered the Hulk without your consent,” she said. “You deserve someone who won’t use you like that.”

He shrugged, not sure he wanted to have that conversation, hunching over the steam wafting from his mug. “It’s OK.  It was a long time ago. It all worked out.”

She nodded. “It still wasn’t right.”

Tony abruptly entered the kitchen, “Bruce! And Natasha. Isn’t this cozy?” She gave him a tiny wave, more a flutter of her fingers, as she took another sip.

“Please don’t, Tony,” said Bruce, stirring his tea.

Tony looked at both of them for a beat. “Having a moment. OK.” He started to make a wide half circle around them on his way to the coffee machine, but Bruce set down his spoon and reached out an arm to pull him close, wrapping both arms securely around him and holding on firmly. He could feel the tension thrumming through Tony’s frame as he inhaled the distinctive smell of workshop Stark. Bruce spread one hand broadly across the small of Tony’s back, willing some of the heat of his gamma-enhanced body into the tight muscles he found there.

He looked up into Tony’s slightly startled face, knowing that Natasha was watching closely. “Hi, Tony,” he said warmly. “Having a moment.”

The tension suddenly released in Tony’s body as if he had flipped a switch and powered down, and he replied lightly, “Hi, Bruce. When are you coming back down to the shop? The install is finished and I’m going to try to wake up the dog.”

“Let me finish up my tea and my conversation with Nat. Maybe 10 or 15 more minutes?”

Tony nodded and then carefully pulled himself out of Bruce’s loosening embrace, grabbed a cup of coffee and left without looking at either one of them again.

Natasha watched him leave and then turned to Bruce with a smile. “So … you and Tony?”

“Maybe,” replied Bruce, sipping his tea and trying not to blush.

“And ‘wake up the dog.’ Is that some weird code that I don’t really want to know about?”

“Oh, no. Tony bought a dog.” Bruce smiled enigmatically. “I named it.”

 

 

 “How did it go, Clint?”

Dejected Clint slid onto the stool. “She still won’t talk to me. She did let me see the kids for a bit though.” He blinked away tears. “They were scared of me.”

Steve put a hand on his shoulder.

“Things’ll get better, Clint. You just have to keep trying to talk to her, smooth off the rough edges between you until you come to a compromise you can both live with.”

Incredulously, Clint looked at him. “Do you hear yourself?”

“What?” Steve was taken aback, thinking back over what he had said. “What?”

Sam shook his head. “Wow. I honestly don’t know what to make of this entire conversation.”

“What?” Steve insisted.

“You know what? I actually miss Lang,” Sam said. I’m going to go see if Nat wants to shoot some pool while Steve thinks about what he said.”

Stung, Steve said, “What the hell did I say? Do you have a problem with me, Sam?”

Sam nodded. “Kind of. Yeah, I do. I actually have a problem with both of you.”

“What did I do?” Clint said angrily, rising from his seat. “I’m dealing with my stuff, so lay off.”

“You really aren’t, Clint,” Sam said. “You can’t treat people like they’re garbage and then fix it with a couple of apologies. I keep thinking I need to talk to you about what went down with Stark’s video but … honestly? I don’t know where to start. You really need to talk to someone about all of that.”

Clint looked at him, his mouth a thin and stubborn line slashed across a stormy face.

“And Steve … you’re like a different person. I don’t feel like I know you anymore.” Sam looked at him. “You’re a leader. But you’re not leading. You’re just letting things happen.”

Clint spat, “I don’t need grief from you, Sam. I’m getting enough of that from Laura.” He turned and stalked out of the room.

“Sam, we need to stand together,” Steve urged. “Don’t split us apart.”

“Steve, what Clint did was wrong. And you just sat there.”

“I told him to turn it off,” Steve said dismissively. “What’s really going on here?”

Sam stared at him. “You honestly don’t get it, do you? Is it because it was Stark? I thought he was the one who had a problem with us, but I’m starting to think I have it backwards.”

“I can’t believe you’re turning against me, Sam,” Steve said sadly.

“This isn’t personal, Steve. This is the … the principle. The principle of how we treat people.” He looked into Steve’s uncomprehending face. “I’m going to go find Nat.”

 

 

“What’s up?”

“The kids want to bring in some new blood,” Tony replied, handing Bruce a tablet.

“Aren’t the kids already the new blood?” Bruce started scrolling through the files. “They’re all so young!”

“They’ve all also seen action already, on their own,” Tony observed, watching him closely. “I knew you probably wouldn’t like it, but if we could provide them training -.”

Bruce interrupted him, still looking at his tablet. “Tony! If we train them, they’ll go out there even more, you know they will. They’ll be in danger.” He took off his glasses and looked up.

Tony had stiffened, his expression morphing as thoroughly as if an Iron Man faceplate had flipped down and Bruce knew that the conversation was over. But even as Bruce was floundering, trying to think of a way to pull Tony back into the exchange, he saw the moment when Tony must’ve decided to go with plan B and explain what he was thinking because his public mask dropped away just as suddenly.

“Bruce, I know. I know. I know you’re right. But here’s the thing. When you were a kid, a freaky genius kid with anger issues and a bad home life, what were you desperate for? When I was a beyond freaky genius kid who got sent away to boarding school at 7 and skipped grades any time it looked like I might actually be able to start making friends, what did I need the most?” There was a strangely distressed expression on Tony’s face, as if everything depended upon him getting Bruce to listen.

Bruce set down the tablet, his heart suddenly in his throat. “Tony …”

“If we bring them to the compound, then they get to know each other and they have a peer group, people who have been through similar stuff. I don’t want them together so they’ll fight together. I want them together so they’ll have each other.” Tony touched the bridge of his nose, pressed his middle finger hard against his forehead, for a moment looking impossibly weary. “Bruce, you know the Accords could’ve been a lot worse. A lot. Some of the things that have been proposed … hell, look what they’ve tried to do to people with the X-gene. If these kids have each other, then if something worse comes along and we can’t stop it … at least they’ll have each other.”

Bruce stared at him for a moment, then reached over and put a hand on Tony’s shoulder, massaging it. “I’m sorry I didn’t listen at first. I’m sorry I assumed you hadn’t thought it out. Tell me about these kids.”

 

 

“OK. First I guess introductions are in order. This is Laura Barton.” Tony touched her shoulder, pulling her into the conversation. “She’s staying here at the compound with her family and is running the place with Vision and FRIDAY in my absence. Wanda lives here full time. Peter and Kamala might as well live here. Bruce and I are at the mansion with James Rhodes, but we do come by every now and then to talk technology and to train.”

Peter added, “There’s enough space for everyone to have their own quarters if you want to live here or just crash for a weekend.”

Laura interjected, “If you do decide to spend the night, we just need to know that your parents are aware and OK with that.”

“See, Laura is the adult voice of reason around here,” Tony said smiling at her fondly. She gestured for everyone to move into the common room and sit down. Kate leaned against the wall, but everyone else sat.

Billy looked at Teddy. Teddy said, “What if we can’t come by that often? Or don’t want to?”

Tony raised his hands, “No pressure. This is an opportunity we’re offering. You don’t have to take us up on it.” Bruce sat silently next to him, his head half-cocked toward Tony, watching all of the interactions.

Peter snorted, “But why wouldn’t you?”

“Maybe we don’t need you,” Kate said. “I’m doing just fine on my own.”

America scowled at him. “Maybe because we aren’t sure where everybody stands, Parker.”

Kamala said belligerently, “I hope you don’t mean that you have a problem with Iron Man or the Avengers.”

“No, I guess I just don’t understand why Iron Man or the Avengers would be interested in training with a bunch of kids,” America snapped back. Kate nodded her head tightly in agreement and the boys both looked at Tony.

The room was silent, at an impasse. Then Bruce said unobtrusively, “Tell them, Tony. Tell them what you told me.”

Tony sighed. “This is what happens when we’re among our people, Big Green. Look, we’re all smart and we’re all evidently deeply suspicious, so I’ll get right to it. As you know, the Accords are not universally popular. They were the lesser of many evils. There are people in power who are … afraid of you. Of us. And they are always looking for ways to limit us, restrain us, keep us contained.” He paused and looked at Bruce. “I wanted you all to know each other and be able to work together so that if something worse than the Accords came along and I couldn’t stop it, you would at least have each other. You wouldn’t be alone. You’d have a team you could count on.”

“That’s funny,” America said sharply. “It didn’t really work out like that for you, did it?”

“Are you trying to be an asshole, America?” Billy said. “Geez. Cut the guy some slack. He’s just asking.”

“Sorry,” she muttered. “But not everybody wants to be an Avenger.”

Kate pushed off from her position against the wall and came forward to sit on the couch next to Laura. “Yeah, what if we decide we don’t want to be Avengers?”

Tony said, “That’s completely up to you. Bruce and I don’t want you to feel pressure to join. And we certainly don’t want you in harm’s way. We just wanted to make the offer of a team you could count on to have your back. And no … it didn’t work out like that for me. But that doesn’t mean this time we won’t get it right.”

Peter said, “You don’t have to decide now. But you could still train with us. It would be good for all of us.”           

Teddy laughed, “Slippery slope, Parker. I see what you’re trying to do.”

Bruce touched Tony’s arm without speaking. As they rose and walked out, America lifted an eyebrow and looked at Kate.

 

 

He had been staring at the information from DS 14 and DS 15 on his tablet for so long that his vision was blurry. “JARVIS, are we sure this is correct?” he asked wearily. “Because I’m not understanding the pattern.” He was so tired, so done. He wasn’t even sure what day it was anymore.

“Bruce … what-.” Tony exclaimed as Bruce plucked the tablet from his hands and scooted him back until his shoulders were pressed against the back of the couch. He spread his thighs as Bruce knelt before the low sofa, his heart beating so rapidly he could feel his pulse fluttering in his throat. “What’s up, Brucie Bear?” Tony murmured, raising one hand to run his fingers through the other man’s short hair.

_“Is this behavior allowed, Sir?”_

Bruce leaned forward and pressed his lips chastely to Tony’s cheek, to his chin, to his lips, his strong hands sliding up the sides of Tony’s torso. Tony tipped his head back and sighed. “You need to take a break, Tony. This room is for relaxing, not working.”

Tony smiled. “I can work anywhere. Besides, those are the latest data sets from the Goldstone Observatory. I’m trying to get up to speed on spacecraft communications.” He rolled his head to the left, his gaze never leaving Bruce’s.

_“It’s fine, J. But just … stay alert please.”_

“You look tired.”

“I am. I’ve been to more meetings this week than I managed to avoid in the last ten years. Hopefully it will slow down now,” Tony said absently, running his hands through Bruce’s hair again. “Hey, where are you going?” he added, when Bruce got up. “I left work early for you and you didn’t even have dinner on the table!” he teased.

“Just here.” Bruce sat next to him on the sofa and lay back against one arm, toeing off his shoes and angling his body toward the back of the sofa. “Come here. Let’s take a nap. Get over here so I can put my feet up.”

Tony scoffed. “I don’t take naps. What am I, five?” He kicked off his shoes, too. “I have work to do.”

“Come here,” Bruce insisted. He urged Tony up into his arms, tucking him between the back of the sofa and his body. Tony gingerly lay down next to him in the gap. It took a few moments for him to start to relax, and Bruce smiled as he felt the gradual releasing of tautness in Tony’s body. He put his left arm across Tony and nestled him close.

“This is a little strange, Bruce,” Tony said softly. “What is Rhodey sees us? You know JARVIS can see this, right?”

“Shhh, Tony. I know you’re probably talking to JARVIS right now. We’re taking a well-deserved nap.”

Later on, after Tony had fallen asleep and Bruce was in a light doze, he was roused by soft footsteps on the wood floor of the common room. He carefully looked around without jostling Tony and saw Natasha smiling at him from across the room. She had her knitting bag in her hands. She gestured silently at the old easy chair in the far corner with a question in her eyes. Bruce smiled at her and she sat down and got out her knitting. He put his head back down and looked at Tony.

“What is it?” Tony murmured with a slight frown line between his closed eyes.

_“Agent Romanoff has entered the room and is knitting. Dr. Banner is aware of her presence.”_

“It’s OK. Nat’s watching our backs.”

“K.”

_“Thanks, J.”_

 

 

 “Chewie! Chewie! Come back here!” Jim’s voice echoed through the east wing.

“What’s going on?” Bruce called.

“DUM-E somehow managed to turn off the workshop perimeter guard long enough for Chewbacca to get out of the workshop!”

“He’s outside?” Bruce got up in alarm. “What if he leaves the grounds?”

“He can’t. There’s another perimeter ten feet inside the property line. And then there’s the exterior fence. But we have to catch him!” Jim went through the open door to the garage.

Bruce followed him. “Won’t his battery run down in 90 minutes or so?”

Rhodes fought back a grin. “Ah … Tony gave him an arc reactor.”

“What? Jim! We have to catch him.” Bruce looked out over the lawn.

“What’s going on, guys?” Natasha appeared behind them in the garage.

“Nat, DUM-E let the dog out. We have to catch Chewie before Tony gets back.”

About ten minutes later, Clint said, “Um, Cap? There’s something really weird going on outside.”

Steve’s heart thumped unpleasantly as he got up and went to the window. On the lawn below, Bruce and Nat were apparently searching for something. Steve disabled the alarm and propped the window open. He could hear Rhodes in the distance calling, “Choo-eee! Choo-ee! Here, boy!”

Nat said, “Damn it! Are we sure he can’t get off the grounds? I’m going to go check the main gate. He can’t climb right?” She jogged off.

Clint said, “Does Stark have a dog?”

Steve shrugged.

Then Clint asked, “What kind of dog could climb the entry gate? Is it a cat maybe?”

As they were looking at each other in bemusement, a four legged robot awkwardly galloped into view. Bruce stilled and called out to it, patting his thighs encouragingly. “Chewbacca! Here, boy!” It stopped and unfolded a strangely long neck, almost like a giraffe’s, and seemed to peer at Bruce. It stood flexing its front legs for a moment while Bruce attempted to entice it. “That’s it, come here! Good boy, Chewie!” Then it folded its neck down tight against its body, reversed direction, and ran off again. “Seriously? I feel so stupid,” Bruce said and ran after it.

“Why does it not surprise me that it’s a robot?” Clint muttered with a slight grin as he went back to his chair. “And it’s named after a Star Wars character.”

Steve closed the window and touched the pad to re-engage the alarm, but he continued to look out at the yard. The robot dog never reappeared.


	11. Chapter 11

_“Time is the longest distance between two places.” ― Tennessee Williams, The Glass Menagerie_

 

“We are so far from the ground!” Bruce giggled nervously. “Did you used to do this when you were a kid?” he asked, leaning back carefully against the roof and looking up at the darkening sky. Because of the height of the trees most of the nearby buildings and roads were hidden, creating a sense that they were in their own world.

Tony thought for a moment. “A couple of times. I did it more frequently later on, when I was home from boarding school and later when I came home from college on breaks. When I needed to get away from my folks.”

“Yeah. I get that.”

“That was a long time ago.” They lay in companionable silence for a long time, squinting at the distant dim points of light in the sky. Thanks to the light pollution, the days were over when you could see the span of the Milky Way from anywhere in New York City, but Bruce had the memories of starry nights in Mumbai and Togo to fall back on. And Tony … well, Tony had actually been out there although he never talked about it.

“I sometimes think about…” Bruce trailed off. Then he tightened his lips, unsure. The companionable silence became tense.

Tony turned his head and looked at the side of Bruce’s face. “Go ahead and spit it out. I’m pretty sure I’m not going to like it, judging from your expression, so there’s no point in softening the blow.”

Bruce bravely forged ahead. “No. It’s not … it’s … my mom. I think about my mom … and what it would’ve been like if she hadn’t died. My dad was a monster, but …”

Tony swallowed and looked back at the sky, but he reached over and grasped Bruce’s hand in apology. “Yeah. Me, too. I mean, my dad wasn’t a monster. He didn’t love me, hit me a few times, and got me started on alcohol kind of young. But not a monster.”

“Yeah.” Bruce sighed. They watched the stars for a while longer and then he added, “We should get high.”

That pulled a startled laugh from Tony. “Are you kidding me? I’m shocked at this anti-social behavior!” He pulled his hand free in order to poke Bruce. “If we get high, will you giggle some more?”

Bruce laughed and easily recaptured his hand, squeezing it a little. “If you get me high on this roof I will probably fall off of it … but I will be laughing.”

 

 

Tony was gone for the next two days and Bruce was lonely. He did some unfocused and halfhearted work on a couple of experiments, played catch with Chewie in the garage and made notes about the responsiveness of the AI, and caught up on his reading, but he missed talking to Tony. After so many years of being satisfied in isolation, it was disorienting to be so dependent upon the other man’s presence. He made a conscientious effort to keep busy and enjoy his solitude, but he even toyed with the idea of seeking out Natasha on the other side of the house. Very late in the evening on the second day, JARVIS interrupted his reading to inform him that Tony had returned and that he was in their common room.

“Thank you, JARVIS,” he said absently, glancing briefly at the clock. He’d let Tony relax and check in with him in the morning. He was sure that Tony was tired and just wanted to go to sleep.

“Dr. Banner?” JARVIS said a few moments later.

“Yes, JARVIS?”  He put down his book.

“Perhaps you would like to go see him right now?”

“I’m sure he’s tired. I don’t want to bother him … JARVIS, do you think I should go talk to Tony?” he asked, thinking perhaps JARVIS was concerned that Tony wouldn’t make it to bed tonight.

“It would probably be a good idea.”

Bruce rose and made his way to the common room. Bruce had been expecting an exhausted Tony, just in from his trip and still in his business suit. Instead, Tony was wearing jeans and a T-shirt and had evidently been back at the mansion for a while. The lights were off, so Bruce could easily make out what was on the screen in Tony’s hand even from as far away as the doorway. The light from the moving images caught the ice in the glass he held in his other hand. It was trembling slightly.

 “Tony, what is that?” he asked, afraid. He slowly walked into the room, willing his heart rate to stay calm.

“One of Obie’s supercuts.” Tony’s voice was rancorous as he raised the highball glass to his lips and swallowed, his expression closed and remote. “JARVIS found it on one of the servers that was stored at the tower. I recovered all of his files when I was there.” He laughed bitterly. “Home movies, Bruce.”

“Tony, don’t.” Bruce tried not to look at the images on the tablet, but he couldn’t help but see.

“Why do I keep leaving myself open, Bruce? My whole schtick is a suit of armor, and yet I keep giving people ways to get inside and get to me. I trusted him and he had them cut out my heart. I trusted Rogers and -,” his voice wavered and broke.

“Tony, look at me.”

“Bruce … you said it was fine for me to need you. To trust you. But how do I know that’s true?” A single tear ran down his face and he sounded so drained.

“I don’t know, Tony. I really don’t. Do you think that I’m any good at trust? I’m the one who has always found it easier just to leave than to pick up the pieces and start over.” He cautiously put his arms around Tony, removing first the tablet and then the glass from his hands and placing them on the coffee table as he knelt in front of him. Finally, Tony’s eyes focused on him, briefly searching his face for something before he looked away again.

“It’s always going to hurt, Tony. That’s just how it is.”

Tony gave a quick and humorless smile. “That doesn’t help, Mean Green.”

“Doesn’t it help that I refuse to lie to you? That I refuse to pretend like everything is fine when we know it isn’t?”

Tony fixed his gaze off to the side, refusing to meet his eyes. “True. If the room were on fire, you would make me leave, wouldn’t you?”

Bruce smiled.

“Bruce, if it had been you … if you had known about my parents … would you have told me?”

Bruce felt a swift, terrible surge of rage push through him, a rage strong enough to tear through the west wing where Rogers slept the sleep of the self-righteous, but he beat it back. “Yes. Without any doubt. I would’ve told you and helped you to process what happened to them, how it impacted you.” He paused, then forged ahead. “I know … I understand how you can love someone and hate and resent and fear them at the same time. I would’ve known that you needed to grieve for your parents, because I grieved for both of mine.”

Tony let his body bow, his forehead coming to rest on Bruce’s shoulder.

“And if I had known you back when you were younger and had known about Ty … I would’ve tried to protect you,” Bruce continued, his voice shaking with suppressed wrath. “Knowing what I was like back then, I probably would’ve killed him.”

“Bruce, I hate killing, but I would’ve done it to save you from what your father did. And if I had known about Ross back then …” Tony said, his voice muffled but his words clear.

“I know you would’ve, Tony. I have never had any doubt that you protect the people you care about. But I would’ve protected you, too. I’ll protect you now.”

Tony lifted his head slowly and looked at him and then said quietly, as if they had done this a thousand times before, “Come to bed.”

“OK.”

Bruce felt unaccountably shy as they entered Tony’s bedroom. It was smaller than the one he’d had at the tower, and it was much more normal than Bruce had expected. In the darkness of the room he felt dislocated, as if he and Tony had stepped through a portal into another life.

“This doesn’t look like one of your rooms at all,” he said, looking around as Tony tugged on his hand.

“It’s not. I haven’t bothered to do anything with it. I don’t really use it that much.” Tony shrugged. “It hasn’t been a priority. I spend a lot of time traveling and I sleep in the workshop a lot.”

Bruce pulled him close, until they were face to face. “Sounds like it’s time for us to change that.”

Tony huffed out a surprised laugh. “Oh yeah?” he said tenderly. He reached up and ran his fingers down the side of Bruce’s face, lightly touching his hair. “Looking a little shaggy there. I like that you’re growing it out.”

Bruce touched Tony’s face, suddenly very aware of how close together they were. He cupped Tony’s jaw in one palm, feeling the bristles of his Van Dyke as he did. “I apologize in advance for the beard burn,” Tony said, and Bruce felt the muscles in his face shift under his palm as he smiled.

“No worries,” Bruce returned softly and leaned in to the kiss. They experimented for a few moments, each man testing the waters and seeing what the other was like. Tony tasted like electricity and coffee, a little bitter but with a spark. Tony kissed with his eyes open, measuring Bruce’s responses. Bruce made himself a promise that he would cause Tony to lose that self-awareness, that detachment, before the night was over.

He pulled back and Tony looked at him with a little concern. “What else can you do with that mouth?” Bruce teased, and Tony smiled, relieved.

“You mean besides talking? Because I’m very good at -.”

“Yeah, besides that.”

“How about this?” Tony seized his hand and drew it to his mouth, sucking Bruce’s index finger between his lips and teasing his fingertip with his tongue. He hollowed his cheeks and drew Bruce’s finger in deeper, all the while keeping his gaze steady on Bruce’s eyes.

Bruce gasped as a sudden bolt of arousal went through him, like touching a live wire and being shocked. He ran his other palm firmly against the front of Tony’s well-worn jeans, feeling the evidence of Tony’s excitement immediately. He leaned forward and whispered, “Take me to bed.”

They went slowly, gradually learning how to be this close to each other. Tony was willing to go faster, but Bruce held him back, wanting to savor every first. The first time they stood completely naked in front of each other. The first time they pulled back the sheets and pushed the pillows aside. The first time Tony said, “JARVIS, only interrupt us for emergencies. You can take a break from monitoring this room.”

The first time Bruce pulled Tony down on top of him and ran his hands over his muscular back. The first time Tony fitted their hips together while he kissed Bruce like his life depended upon it. The first time Bruce held Tony in his loose fist and started to move and heard Tony’s breath catch. The first time Tony forgot himself and whispered an endearment in Bruce’s ear. The first time Tony slid down his body and took Bruce in his mouth.

“Rumor has it,” Tony said teasingly before he started, “that I am very skilled at blowjobs.”

“Is that true? Maybe we should test that hypothesis,” Bruce said fondly, looking into Tony’s dark eyes and running his fingers through his hair.

“Scientific method,” Tony said approvingly. “It’s always worked for me.”

 

 

Tony had the unusual experience of waking, well-rested, in his own bed. For a few moments he lay there on his back puzzled, wondering what in the mansion was making that weird squealing noise. Then he realized it was coming from Bruce’s side of the bed. “What the hell is that?” he mumbled gruffly.

“Whale songs?” Bruce said sheepishly. “It’s my alarm. I find it calming.”

Tony turned his head to look at Bruce. “Even though they’re talking shit to each other?”

“What?”

“Yeah! Don’t you speak whale?” Tony rolled onto his side and clasped Bruce against him, pushing the sheets out of the way in order to find skin. “Listen, that one is saying, ‘Yoo-oo-uu betterrrr get oo-uu-t of my griiii-iiil or I’m go-oo-nna  pop yuu-oo-uu!’” He ran one hand down the side of Bruce’s body.

Bruce shook in his arms with silent laughter.

“And this other one is saying, “Oo-oo-oh ye-aa-ah, yo-oo-ou and what arm-eeeee? It’s very easy to understand once you get the hang of it.” He gave Bruce a quizzical look, “You really find that relaxing?”

Bruce burst into loud laughter and rolled them over so that he was straddling Tony. He leaned down toward the other man.

Suddenly they heard a rhythmic thumping noise in the hallway, so powerful that it rattled the walls. Bruce reacted first, “Oh, no! Chewie got out again!” He leapt out of bed, grabbing his pants and Tony’s shirt and making for the door.

Tony was right behind him, hopping as he pulled his jeans on and saying in a puzzled tone, “Again?”  



	12. Chapter 12

_“The human being, whether he realises it or not, is trusting someone or something every moment of the day.” ― Idries Shah, Sufi Thought and Action_

“I like your scarf,” Bruce said smiling across the breadth of the table.

“Nat made it for me.” Tony fussed with it for a moment, finally tucking it inside his coat.

“I know. I saw her making it and, with that color, I knew it had to be for you.”

“Of course you do, you clever and observant scientist.”

“Mmm, you’re just mad because I’m so methodical with my data collection.”

“Sexy sexy data collection.”

“Are you two ready to go?” Jim said, “Or do I have to listen to more of your clumsy and weird flirting?”

“I don’t want to go,” Tony said. “I haven’t had nearly enough coffee for this day.”

“Or nearly enough sleep,” Natasha said fondly, mussing his hair up as she walked past, avoiding his hands as he tried to slap her away. “And yet, it’s time to head to the compound. I told Steve to let us get there first, so we need to leave now.”

“Ugh,” Tony shivered. “I’m so sick of the hang dog looks.”

“Hyperbole,” replied Bruce mildly. “You haven’t even been in the same room with them.”

“Why don’t you just talk to them, Tony?” asked Natasha. “You and Steve need to hash this all out, or the team will never come back together.”

Putting his hand on his chest, Tony declaimed dramatically, “I would rather die than talk about feelings!”

Bruce laughed into his palm. Encouraged, Tony continued, “Seriously though, it’s like peeling off skin. I’d rather not do it, it’s messy, and it makes me all red and weepy.”

“There’s my bullshit artist,” said Rhodey. “I wondered where he had gotten to.”

“Why do you both encourage him?” Natasha said, quirking her lips.

“OK! Are we ready to head out?” Tony said, changing gears abruptly. “You know the kids have been up eating sugar for hours now.”

“You’re going to have to buy a family car,” Natasha remarked as they rode the elevator down to the garage level. Tony raised an eyebrow at her inquiringly.

“For the dog. You need more room in the back so you can take your dog. Kids love dogs.”

 

 

“OK,” Tony took off his sunglasses and clapped his hands. “So this is awkward, right? Let’s pretend like we’re all cool with each other and just get on with it.”

Sam suppressed a chuckle, which escaped him when Steve shot him a betrayed look. Steve said antagonistically, “Let’s not pretend. Why is this the first time that you’re talking to us?”

Clint said reluctantly, “Um … I’ve already talked to Tony.”

Steve looked at Tony. Tony shrugged.

Natasha added, “And everyone knows that I’ve been talking to him. So that just leaves the two of you.”

Wilson raised his hands, “I’m just here to meet the rest of the team. Hi, I’m Sam Wilson, otherwise known as the Falcon.”

“They’re not ‘the rest of the team’! They’re just kids,” Rogers said angrily.

“Hey, old man,” America said, “I can kick your ass any day of the week and twice on Sunday.”

There was a surprised silence and Jim laughed, “I like you! I don’t think you can do it, but I love the can-do attitude.”

Tony swiped his phone and said, “OK, rein it in, Pudding Pop. We’re supposed to be the adults. I just sent everyone the full roster with everyone’s basic info and specialties. The most important thing today, besides this meet and greet, is to work out training schedules. I have a suggested calendar for your perusal, but feel free to amend it as you see fit.”

Rogers shot him a dirty look and Clint rolled his eyes.

Sam looked up from his phone. “Mr. Stark, you and Dr. Banner aren’t on the rotation.”

“No, we’re not. Dr. Banner is retired from superheroing and using his scientific expertise for the betterment of humanity. And I have a lot of meetings. A lot of meetings. SI is keeping me busy. War Machine will be your airborne heavy hitter for the time being.”

When Sam looked at him doubtfully, Rhodey said, “Fully functional now, Falcon,” and shot him a tight grin.

“So, what? You’re not fighting anymore?” Rogers demanded. “Are you too good to be on the team with us now?”

Tony looked at him coldly, “I’m not going to fight with you, Rogers. This is the schedule. If you have a problem, suggest an amendment and we’ll try to come to an agreement.”

Rhodey, “Pot kettle, Tones. Be a grown up.”

Peter stage whispered, “When he says, ‘I’m not going to fight with you,’ does that mean fight on the team with you like on your side? Or does it mean I’m done arguing with you?”

“I’m done arguing,” Tony said shortly. “Vision is in charge of the compound, with able assistance from FRIDAY. Any questions or complaints go through them and they will escalate problems to me when necessary.”

_“Sir, your heart rate has increased. Please remain calm.”_

_“I’m OK, J.”_

Bruce could tell by his tone that Tony was at the end of his tolerance for the conversation, so he stepped in. “Tony and I will still be doing R&D for the team, so if you have equipment requests you can forward those to us directly. Speaking of which, it might be a good idea for us to head to the gym so you can each demonstrate your skills and we can inventory existing tech. You have a different mix of talents, so it will change what happens in training and, if it ever comes to that, in the field.”

Rogers said stubbornly, “They’re too young to fight.”

Teddy replied, “I’ve got news for you; we’re already fighting. Tony just wants to make sure we aren’t fighting alone anymore.”

Bruce looked around at the inflexible expressions in the silence that fell after Teddy’s comment. Gamely, he said, “OK. Vision, you want to lead us to the training rooms?”

Vision watched Tony until he nodded, and then slowly led them all through to the gym. As Clint stepped forward, he heard his wife call his name behind them. “I’ll catch up to you guys,” he said, and he turned to face her.

“Clint.” Her expression was serious, but her eyes were softer than he had seen in a long time. She had her arms loosely crossed in front of her.

“Laura. I’m so sorry. I have been thinking about … what I did to you and the kids. Why I did it. What a mistake it was.”

“Why did you do it?” For the first time, she looked curious instead of defiant as she asked the question.

“You know when I was a kid I was so desperate for approval from people I looked up to. And after Loki, Steve had my back. He was a leader I felt like I could trust, especially once SHIELD disintegrated. When he called for me, I did have doubts about the Accords and what it could mean for people like us and I was concerned about the way Wanda was being treated. But mostly … I just wanted to follow where Steve led.”

“Was it worth it?” she asked, turning to walk to the low couches and sit down. He followed her and sat down as close to her as he dared.

“Honestly? No. Because I abandoned the people I care most about in the world, you and the kids. And I have been so angry at myself ever since I did it that … ever since I made that dumbass decision. I just keep … lashing out. It’s like I don’t know myself anymore. Because the person I thought I was never would’ve done that to you.” He looked down at the calluses on his fingers, turned his hands on his lap. “So if I’m not that person … who am I?”

Laura looked at him with tears running down her face.

“I’m so sorry, Laura. Please let me start to make it up to you. Please let me come home to you, wherever that home is. I’m so sorry.”

Laura opened her arms and Clint moved into her embrace. “I’m still so angry at you,” she whispered. “And I’m still not ready to live with you.”

“Good. I deserve that. But let me start to make it right with you and to the kids,” he begged. “Please, Laura. I love you so much.”

“OK.”  


 

In the gym, each Avenger took turns displaying his or her skills. Tony stood a little apart, watching with a detached expression as Natasha and Kamala circled each other on the mats and tried to take each other down while Kate and America egged them on.

“Why is this the first time that I’m seeing you in person? We’ve been back for over a month. We’ve even been living in your house. But I haven’t seen you.” Rogers asked, leaning against the wall next to him.

Tony shrugged one shoulder. “Because I didn’t want to see you, Cap.”

“Tony, we need to make this right if the team is going to work. You have this group of kids who will do whatever you say and -.”

“Rogers, see them for who they really are. If you believe they’re mindless followers, then you don’t know anything about them. You haven’t been listening,” Tony said tiredly.

“We have two factions here,” Steve insisted, raising his voice. “That won’t work.”

“We don’t, but it’s a non-issue anyway because I don’t intend to fight with the team. I have a lot on my plate right now -.”

“You can’t just walk away!” Steve’s voice rang out in the gym, drawing everyone’s eyes.

“Why not?” Tony said simply, slipping on his sunglasses. “You did.” He left the gym and, after a moment, so did Bruce.

“That was awkward,” Peter said, hanging from the ceiling and craning his neck to catch America’s eye. “Wanna go grab a smoothie in the kitchen?”

“Sure,” she said. The rest of the young Avengers, including Wanda, followed them out.

Natasha walked over to Steve, “What the hell was that?”

Sam added from where he was standing with Rhodes, “Yeah, you were really pushing buttons there, Steve. Let’s not mess this up. I like these kids. They’re funny as hell and they have real talent. There’s the potential here for an excellent team.” He looked at Jim. “I want to try to make this work.”

 

 

Bruce looked at Tony as they slowly walked the grounds. “I’m really impressed by how you’ve kept your temper.”

“Ah, don’t blow smoke,” Tony grumbled affectionately.

“I’m not. Can I ask you something? You don’t have to answer if you don’t want to.”

Tony looked at him. “What’s up, Brucie?”

Bruce said slowly, “When I first got to the mansion, you know I talked with Jim … and he said you were taking medication for depression. Are you still taking meds?”

“Wow, you just jump right in with both feet, don’t you?” Tony smiled warmly.

“I told you that you didn’t have to answer.”

Tony tucked Bruce’s arm against his side. “It’s OK. I guess it’s something we should talk about. Yeah, I’m on meds. I wasn’t being very responsible about taking them before. It felt like I was taking the easy way out, but …”

“But what?”

“You know when Clint watched that video of me?” Bruce nodded and slipped his hand into Tony’s. “I went and talked to him later that night.” Bruce raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t interrupt.

“I was going to have it out with him. But I realized when I saw him … that he was depressed, too. That’s why he was so angry and bitter. He wasn’t the Clint I remembered. Hell, he’s still messed up. I didn’t want to end up like that.” He sighed and squeezed Bruce’s fingers. “I have enough problems with myself as I am.”

Bruce said, “I think I want to kiss you right now. Find me a moderately private place so I can lay one on you.”

 

 

In the kitchen, Peter looked absently out the window and then did an exaggerated double take.

“Wow,” said America. “Did you just … you’re like a cartoon! Did everybody see that?”

Ignoring her, Peter breathed, “No way! Science Bros is real!”

“What!”

The others rushed to crowd by the window where Peter stood. Across the courtyard, they could see Tony and Bruce standing very close together in the shadow of the wall. They were talking and even from the distance, the easy smile on Tony’s face was evident. Then he leaned forward and put a hand on the side of Bruce’s neck, drawing him even closer.

“Dr. Banner? And Tony?” Kamala said, standing up on her tiptoes so she could see better. 

“Dad has a boyfriend! Dad has a boyfriend,” Peter sing-songed as Bruce moved closer and kissed Tony lightly on the mouth. Even from the distance, they could see how Tony uncharacteristically relaxed against the other man, his body language open. They kissed again, this time a little more intensely.

“God, Peter, could you try to be cool just one time?” Billy grumbled, fighting a grin. “Just once?”

“Did you know?” Kate asked suddenly.

“What? Why would I know? Just cause I’m gay? Why don’t you ask America?”

America huffed, “Nice, Billy. Although this could’ve been a persuasive recruiting point …”

“Well, Billy I figured you had decent gaydar,” shrugged Kate and Teddy nodded sagely.

“What? It’s a thing.”

“Gaydar?”

“Oh, hey, uh, Captain Rogers. Yeah, it’s a thing where you can tell if someone is … uh … gay or, in this case, I guess bi because they’ve both dated women also …” Kate trailed off.

In confusion, Steve asked, “Who? Who has dated women? What are you talking about?” as Sam and Natasha followed him into the kitchen.

“Is bi-dar a thing?” Teddy asked the room in general.

Peter gestured out the window. “You only need gaydar when you don’t get the visual of Daddy sucking face with another dude.”

“Peter!” Kamala laughed.

“Does this mean we have two Daddies? Like that penguin? I think it does. I shall call Bruce ‘Papa,’” Peter babbled.

“Is that … Tony?” Steve felt like his gut was in his chest, trying to cut off his breath.

“Yep,” said Billy defensively, his body language abruptly tight. “And Dr. Banner. Do you have a problem with that?”

“No … I just never knew.” Steve felt lost, as if the floor were moving under his feet. Or maybe that was just the earth spinning and time moving on.

“Well, in your defense I think this is something relatively new for them,” remarked Natasha, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. “But the UST was always there.”

“UST? No, you know what? Never mind. I don’t care. I’m tired. I want to go back to the mansion,” Steve said.

 

 

When they returned to the mansion, Steve immediately went to the gym. As he worked on the heavy bag, he kept seeing Tony’s face. Tony looking up at him, terrified and betrayed on the ground in Siberia. Tony smiling at him across the battlefield. Tony sneering at him. Tony, the young man Bucky had orphaned, lost. Tony finding comfort with Banner. Tony’s eyes hidden behind something far more opaque and permanent than sunglasses when he looked at Steve now.

He was unable to banish his thoughts of Tony, so he finally left the gym to shower and seek company. He found the others sitting in the kitchen eating leftover take out. He knew he should have an appetite, but his stomach was unsettled and he couldn’t even imagine trying to eat. Instead, he sat down with a glass of water and watched his team. Clint looked over at him. “What’s up, Cap?”

“I just … I keep thinking about the past …”                            

“Which one?” Natasha asked caustically.

“Damnit, Nat. What the hell?” Clint said as Sam moved forward to put a hand on Steve’s shoulder, to remind him that he wasn’t alone.

“I am so fucking tired of all of this mooning around. You made your choices, all of you. Clint, you threw your family away on an impulse and I hope like hell for your sake that your conversation with Laura was the beginning of fixing that mess. Steve, you threw away the Avengers and your reputation for personal reasons. Sam, honestly, what were you thinking? And now you all sit around sulking, whining, being pissed off at other people about the choices that you made. Tony’s a pain in the ass sometimes, but at least he takes responsibility for the shit he pulls.”

Sam started to interject, but she continued to speak. “And while we are sitting around wasting time and stagnating, Tony is training a new generation of Avengers, working on a launch complex for space travel and on global early warning and defense, running SI New York, taking care of Clint’s family, designing prosthetics for paralyzed veterans and for kids, getting pardons for those of us who made our stupid choices, helping to make the Accords something workable for all sides, and moving on with his life. Even Lang got over himself after his pardon and went back home.”

“It takes time to recover, Nat. Stark didn’t have to go through -,” Clint began hotly.

“Through what, Clint? You had way worse when you worked for SHIELD and you were never a crybaby about it. I don’t understand this. Why are you so fixated on him?”

Steve said, “Because he let his personal damage divide the team. He’s the one who can’t get past it and work with us. Where has he been all of this time, Nat? Why won’t he talk to us?”

“His damage, Steve? Come on! Do I really need to remind you how many times Tony has beaten back PTSD and panic attacks in order to get things done? Like when he had his chest cut open without anesthetic? Or when he was tortured? He has never let his damage keep him from his duty.” She continued more softly. “Or what about when the team he’d been footing all the bills for blew him off without even talking to him about the difficult, grown up stuff? Or when he found out his team leader had been lying to him? And he had to watch his parents’ murders with nothing to soften the blow?”

“That wasn’t Bucky’s fault!” Steve said stubbornly.

“No, Steve, it was your fault. Your damage.”

Steve flinched back as if she had struck him.

“And my fault. He shouldn’t have had to find out like that. We didn’t respect him enough to tell him. My damage.” She sighed. “We didn’t make the time to get to know him well enough to have a real conversation. If we had, he never would’ve reacted like that, even if he had seen the video of Bucky strangling his mother.”

“That wasn’t Bucky’s fault.”

Sam interjected gently, “Steve, put yourself in his shoes for just a moment. Think about how you would feel, seeing that, knowing someone you trusted had kept that from you.”

“No, I’m tired of this,” Natasha said sharply. “I’m tired of holding back so that people’s feelings don’t get hurt. We’re all adults here. Steve, I am so sick of hearing you say that it wasn’t Bucky’s fault. Even Bucky got tired of you saying it! Sometimes people need to take responsibility for what they’ve done so they can move on. You need to move on, but you never will if you can’t take responsibility for your actions. Just like you won’t recover if you can’t let yourself see your damage.”

“Nat …”

“What have I always said about myself?”

“That you have red in your ledger and you want to wipe it out. But Nat, that wasn’t your fault -.”

“Damn it, Steve! You’re right that I was brainwashed, I was used, I was not aware at the time of the ramifications of what I did. But I still feel responsible and am working for absolution. I don’t want to stay broken. Tony was lied to and used and wasn’t aware that Stane was selling his weapons to terrorists … but he felt responsible and is working for absolution. Bruce is working for absolution. Wanda is working for absolution. We take responsibility for our actions, for how we have hurt people. Even when it wasn’t our fault.” She paused and added, more calmly. “If you step on someone’s foot by accident, you don’t make excuses. You apologize.”

Steve stared at her, unable to process where the conversation was going.

“Otherwise, Steve, we can never move forward,” Natasha said.

“She’s right, Steve,” Sam said slowly. “That’s the only way to heal. I talked to Jim while you guys were posturing at the compound, something I should’ve done before, and I need to continue moving forward. I can’t keep living in a superhero clubhouse when I have my real life out there waiting for me; it’s not even fun like I thought living with Stark would be. I have my life … and now I’m ready to get back to it. If you need me for a mission … and we have approval to go … I’m there. But I can’t sit around waiting like this any longer.”

“Where are you going?” Steve felt the beginnings of panic.

“It is long past time for me to talk to Stark. Then I’m going to go home.”

Natasha said, “I’ll let him know to meet you in our common room.”

Thirty minutes later Sam walked into the common room with his bag to find it empty. He stood silently, trying to feel a sense of closure for this adventure but there was nothing. He just wanted to get back to his life and put this experience behind him.

“Ugly, isn’t it? There used to be this terrible family portrait hanging there, but I figured Rogers would take it the wrong way if I left that up.” Sam turned away from the generic landscape that hung on the wall.

“Hey, Mr. Stark.”

Tony was leaning against the doorframe, as if hesitant to enter the room. He was wearing lightly tinted glasses that partially obscured his eyes. “Seriously? After all we’ve been through together? Well, not together -.”

“Sorry. Hi, Tony.”

“Hey, Sam.”

“I wanted to apologize to you.”

Tony pushed off of the doorframe and gestured toward Sam’s bag. “You heading out?”

“Tony, I’m sorry. I should’ve counseled Steve to talk to you. I shouldn’t have judged you without really knowing you, without talking to you. I should’ve asked about your reasons. I might not have agreed with them, but I should’ve talked to you.”

“It’s OK,” Tony shrugged. “Water under the bridge. Seriously. Are we done crying on each other now? Need cab fare?”

Sam smiled, “I’m waiting for an Uber pick up.”

“Taking your life into your own hands. Well, OK. Stop by anytime, Sam. You’re welcome at the compound, of course. I’ll probably want to talk to you about a tech upgrade pretty soon. Just give Vision a call and he’ll set it up.” Tony started to turn away, but stopped when Sam spoke again.

“You know, I have a PTSD group you might find useful. I left the details with Nat for you.”

Tony smirked at him, “Yeah, right.” Then he turned his back, waving negligently as he walked away.

 

“Steve,” Sam held out his hand. “I’m going to take off now. I need to get back to what’s left of my life. I have work to do at the VA, soldiers who need me, friends and family members who’ve been worried about me. With my pardon and the fact that I’ve signed the Accords, they offered me my job back at the VA. And I accepted.”

“That’s great, Sam. I’m happy for you,” Steve said numbly.

“You should think about what you want to do. Hanging out in the TV room at the mansion, working out, and eventually fighting battles if they activate us … that’s not enough of a life. You need to find something to do with your time that’s meaningful.”

“I know. I just don’t know what it is yet.”

“Do you think you’ll figure that out here?” Sam asked seriously.

Steve sighed. “No.”

“Well, you know where to find me. Tell Natasha and Clint I said good bye. I left a message for Rhodes so that when he’s ready to talk to me some more he knows how to find me. And I talked to Stark and apologized for being such a dick to him. He did a lot to help all of us. Turns out I didn’t know anything about him at all.” He paused. “I also invited him to attend one of my PTSD group meetings, even though I’m sure he won’t go.”

“Yeah. He won’t go,” Steve said flatly.

Sam forged ahead. “You know, you’re welcome to attend the PTSD group, too. We all need help sometimes.”

 

Steve replied, “We’ll see, Sam. Thanks for everything.”


	13. Chapter 13

_“Every living being is an engine geared to the wheelwork of the universe. Though seemingly affected only by its immediate surrounding, the sphere of external influence extends to infinite distance.” - Nikola Tesla, February 7, 1915_

“Are you sure you’re ready to go to Mars, Mr. Stark?”

He was hanging in the void. He hadn’t been prepared for the absolute quiet or the sight line that went on forever. He was so small. Awkwardly, he tried to turn, but the suit was locked in place around him and all he could do was struggle inside it. _“JARVIS? JARVIS, are you there?”_

No answer. Had the implants failed?

Suddenly, he could feel an enormous shockwave behind him and his arms raised against his will as the mountains came down. There was light streaming all around him and he started to hear metallic pings as his suit was pelted by shrapnel from the blast.

There was a sharp pain in his left chest and he looked down to see red blood bubbling to the surface and evaporating away in the vacuum. Another pain, this time in his lower back and he felt as if he had just been broken in half. He was pinwheeling now, his body jerking in agony, with no frame of reference to let him know direction or speed. Lost. Another hit. Another, now coming so quickly that there was no relief in between the blows. Each red jolt tore a piece of him away until he was nothing but wires, strung spinning across the darkness. And then he was gone.

“Tony! Tony!” Bruce was clutching him urgently, speaking softly and quickly in his ear, half holding him up in the bed. “Tony! JARVIS says you need to take one of these. Open your mouth for me.”

“Sir, please listen to Dr. Banner. Sir?” JARVIS’ voice was loud and he sounded distressed.

He thought muzzily, ‘But I don’t have a heart to save anymore,’ even as he opened his mouth to accept the pill.

He hung there silently in the dark airless gravity well of the bed, listening to Bruce count off his heartbeats in a whisper. As the numbers slowed and the air leaked back into the room, he felt Bruce’s grip start to relax. This was the moment when he should make his move, when he should pull away and disappear for a while into the caves underneath this terrible, aching house where at least he could hide from the sky. But he was so tired of running. So as Bruce’s grip lessened, he held on tighter. Bruce made a small noise of surprise and held onto him more firmly.

“It was just a nightmare… about space … the portal,” he managed. “And … well … I have a cardiologist that I’m seeing about the damage to my heart.”

Bruce kissed the side of his head and smoothed his fingers over Tony’s sore chest. “Thank you for telling me.”

“Thank you for staying,” he mumbled.

“Tony,” Bruce said sadly. “I know you tried to talk to me about … everything … once before, and I shut you down. You’ll never know how much I’ve regretted that. How much I regret it now. I wish ...” he stopped, his distress palpable.

Tony felt a surge of panic that he tried to quash. The last thing he wanted was for Bruce to feel responsible for any of this. “Hey hey Big Guy … no worries. It’s fine.”

“In a ‘this is fine’ kind of way,” Bruce joked, feeling a tear spill over and run down his face. He rubbed it out with one finger. “Sorry.”

“Bruce. I know it’s just as hard for you as it is for me. Probably harder.” He put a shaky hand over the one Bruce still had spread out over his chest. “I know I have a reputation as a man-baby that has to be managed and taken care of. The whole do-I-know-my-social-security-number thing. And I _am_ insulated from the daily grind. But I’m also used to taking care of myself, Bruce.”

He sighed.

“I’m used to dealing with my own shit. Nobody wants to hear the problems of a rich white guy, and I get that. So when stuff happens, I deal with it and move on.” He paused, feeling like for an instant like he had felt with the world had dropped out from beneath his feet, when Obie had told him his parents were gone. “When my mom died and when Jarvis 1.0 died, the original Jarvis, the one who basically raised me … it took me a while, but I eventually figured out that everyone else I met was just in it for themselves. You know, ‘trust no one.’ And that’s worked for me. Mostly. A few exceptions.”

Bruce nodded then.

“Not gonna lie. The Rogers and Barnes show fucked me up. Some stuff I stupidly thought was solid ground turned out to be empty air and I’ve been falling for a while now. And …seeing,” he choked, and Bruce held him even tighter. “Seeing Barnes put his hands around my mom’s throat … I …” He had to stop for a moment and collect himself. “Side note. Anyway. OK. But about us. I could go on like that for the rest of my life and deal with the nightmares as they come if I needed to. I can do it. But for as long as you are here, I am happier. I am … better able to deal. You don’t have to stay in order to protect me or fix me or … whatever. I don’t need you like that. But I want you here for as long as you are able to be here with me.” He shifted around so that he could tuck his head against Bruce’s throat and hide in the darkness there.

Bruce tightened his arms around Tony and smiled. “So you’re saying you don’t want me as your therapist?”

“Yeah, that. And if we’re going to play doctor, then I want to play the _other_ kind -.” Bruce stopped him with a laugh and a kiss.

 

 

Bruce lazily watched Kate, Teddy, and Billy play catch with Chewie on the compound lawn. He couldn’t hear anything from the other side of the glass but Chewie’s tendency to steal the ball and run off with it was causing a lot of frustration. Laura and Clint were out there, too, with the kids, inside a safety perimeter Tony had set up to keep Chewie out of their space.

“We’re going to outer space?!” Peter bounced off the wall and ricocheted off the ceiling to land on the floor in a crouch.

“No, _we_ are not. I am helping with the science and engineering so that humanity can go to outer space,” Tony grumbled.

“No way, uh uh, _we_ are going to space!” Peter danced around the room. “I saw your paper in this month’s _American Journal of Space Science_ , and we are definitely going to space! You’re working on the Aldrin Mars Cycler! You’re building a launch complex in Florida with SpaceX – I saw pictures of it on the SI tumblr!” He danced off again singing, “We are going to space!”

“I told you that you wouldn’t be able to keep it a secret,” Bruce remonstrated with a smile.

“Well, not if someone in the company is putting it on social media! Am I paying someone to hang out on tumblr all day?” Tony complained. “Peter! Peter! Come talk to me.”

Peter bounced up to him. Tony grinned and said, “OK, so yes, I am working on space science. But … but it’s not just about us going into space. That’s part of it, yes, but I’m also looking at robotic exploration, dogs like Chewie, probes that can send out early warnings, and assisting the Planetary Defense Coordination Office at NASA.”

“Those guys who look out for asteroids?”

“Yes.”

Peter looked at Tony for a moment. Then he said, suddenly serious, “You think there are more aliens coming. Like in the Incident.”

“Yes. Or something worse.”

“Worse that enormous flying space whales that shed robot soldiers? Shit.” Peter thought for a moment. “This is why you haven’t been training much with us. You’re working on the big picture.”

Tony sighed. “I think I liked it better when you were jumping around and saying we were going to space.” Bruce smiled wryly. “Look, Peter, there’s no reason to believe there is any imminent danger. I just feel like there’s no excuse not to start working on global defense. Plus, you know, maybe we’ll go to space.”

Peter stared at him for a moment, then cracked a grin. “Shotgun!” he said and then bounced off. Bruce put an arm around Tony and laughed.

 

 

Tony walked into the kitchen at the compound the next day to find Steve sitting at the island alone watching the footage from his press conference. On the TV screen, Captain America was on repeat wrapping up his remarks. He took one final question from a reporter in the crowd.

“How does it feel to be back, Captain?”

“It feels great. I’ve missed working with the Avengers, and I will always regret the way that we were manipulated into opposing each other. I’m back, working with my friend Iron Man, Tony Stark, to serve as a shield against danger.”

“Thank you, Captain.”

Steve switched off the TV and let silence fall in the kitchen. Then he asked the question that had been bothering him for over a year. “Tony, how come you never used the burner phone to call me?”

Tony looked at Steve incredulously over his coffee cup. “Why would I have done that?”

“In case you needed me or wanted to talk.”

 “News flash, Rogers. I don’t need you. And you’re pretty much the last person I’ve wanted to talk to.”

Steve couldn’t help the protest that rose in his throat. “Didn’t you even read the letter I wrote you?”

“You know that we’re not friends, right Rogers? We never really were friends. Too much bad blood, too different,” Tony remarked. His tone was quiet and filled with regret and, although Steve wanted to take offense, he realized that this was his long-awaited opportunity to have a real conversation with Tony.

“It doesn’t have to be like that, Tony. We can start over. I was wrong not to be honest with you. And friends can disagree, even on the important stuff.”

“Look, I’m going to be brutally honest because I think it’s time we had this out. I have no desire anymore to be friends with you. I can work with you. I can be on a team with you. I can plan missions with you. I can be polite at dinner parties. I can be friendly when we’re with other people and we need to present a united front. But we aren’t friends. Trusting you in battle is one thing. Trusting you to be honest with me, to talk to me and listen to what I have to say, is something else entirely.”

“But Tony that’s what we’re doing right now,” Steve protested.

Ignoring him, Tony added with asperity, “Anyway, I don’t know why this is a problem. You don’t want to be friends with me either. You never have. I don’t know what I was thinking – I guess some fucked up leftover childhood hero worship and, hell, that’s not fair to you.  You aren’t that guy from the comic books; you never were.” He sat down on one of the stools and wrapped both hands around his cup, watching the steam rise.

Steve said softly, “I don’t know what guy I am, Tony. Am I the guy who should’ve died in the war? Am I the guy who should’ve married Peggy and died of old age? Am I the guy who could’ve stayed friends with Howard and -.”

“No,” Tony said sharply, his expression closing down. “Just don’t.”

Steve nodded his acceptance.

Tony continued, “We have always argued, and not always in a constructive way. You have never approved of anything that I do, even though you know very little about what I do and why I do it.”

“You’re wrong. I approve of the way you take care of people. The thing I got most wrong about you was when I said you wouldn’t lie down on the wire. You do it all the time. You give everything you have to keep people safe … even people you don’t like or trust.”

Tony rolled his eyes and his lips tightened.

“Tony, I was so wrong about you. And I threw away your friendship without ever really accepting it. It was so much easier to judge you, to look at you and see your dad … for good and for bad. I wish I hadn’t done that, I wish … I wish I had been your friend. And, God, Tony … I wish I had trusted you and not kept secrets from you. I wish I had been willing to talk things out with you. I wish … “

“Cap,” Tony said, and Steve looked up at the nickname. “You want something back that never really existed in the first place. Let it go. And as for all of the arguing … we have to let that go, too. It’s not good for the team. Things happened. They weren’t good. People got hurt. But we have to move on. The dangers we face as a planet are too big for us to be fighting among ourselves.” He held out his hand. “Can we just shake hands and move on and never talk about all of this again?”

Slowly, Steve took the offered hand. “OK. But please accept my apology. And my thanks for everything you did to bring us to this point.”

Tony nodded shortly. “OK, great, excellent. So, are you planning on moving into the compound? I think the kids are ready.”

“About that, Tony … thank you for letting me stay at the mansion, but I’ve been thinking a lot about some stuff Sam said and I think that I need to get my own place. I haven’t really had my own place since … well, ever.”

“Even better. That’s good. I think that’ll be good for you. Give you something to do.” Tony smiled.

 “Will you be alright there, Tony, without the team?”

“I have a team, Cap. I have the kids and Vision and FRIDAY here at the compound. I have the bots and Happy at the mansion. I have Rhodey and Pepper when they’re here. And I have Bruce. I have a team.”

 

 

Back at the mansion, Tony sought out Natasha. She was in the east wing common room knitting something green and lumpy. “For the Big Guy?” Tony asked, perching on the edge of the couch.

She regarded him. “Are you OK, Tony?”

“I’m fine.” She quirked an eyebrow at him and he added, “No, I really am fine. I’m just tired. These in depth emotional conversations are bad for my health. It’s time for me to go back down to the shop and stay there with the bots for a while.”

“Well, if you do that, you’ll be missed,” she replied. “How did your conversation with Steve go? Did you say all of the things you needed to say?”

“He’s going to go find himself,” Tony said. “But we came to an understanding first. What about you, Widow? Are you going to leave, too?”

“I don’t have any place else to go right now, Tony. And I’d like to stay here with you and help … even though your house is really ugly. I think I could stay at the compound now; they don’t seem to mind me there. If you want me out of your ugly house.” She smiled.

Tony grinned back at her. “I think it’s weird how much the kids like you, especially the girls. I don’t know why they aren’t paralyzed in terror.”

“Stop,” she replied fondly. “It was one syringe, in one doughnut shop, one time, a long time ago.”

They both sat in silence for a few moments.

“Are you still angry with me?” she ventured, stashing her project in a fabric bag and placing it on the floor next to her chair.

“No,” he replied. “You were doing what you do, playing all sides to try to bring us back together. You were the only one who remembered that we were supposed to be one team. And it helped. Everything could’ve been so much worse. I’m not mad at you. I never really was. I’m still kind of mad at Clint though. I wasn’t before, but the way he has acted since he got back …”

“I know. Laura has no reason to give him a second chance, but if she doesn’t I don’t know if he will be able to find his way back to himself. “

Tony nodded.

“So if I’m staying here, do I have to stay in the west wing by myself? Because it’s going to get kind of lonely over there with everyone else gone.”

Tony laughed, “You’re right. I suppose we can find you a bolt hole on the side of righteousness and truth.”

“I heard it was the side of insomnia.”

“Not so much anymore. Not so much.”


	14. Chapter 14

_“But Hopes are Shy Birds flying at a great distance seldom reached by the best of Guns.” -  John James Audubon, letter to his wife_

Bruce knelt naked in the center of the bed, his knees sinking into the mattress.  Tony leaned back until he was reclining on the pillows, watching him closely. “So, I was thinking about you today while I was working on my ion project. I guess it was all of that stimulated emission,” Bruce said suggestively.

“That’s what you’re going with?” Tony laughed quietly, his arms loose at his sides.

Bruce forged ahead, his face hot, “You don’t think we have good chemistry?”

Tony groaned, “I had no idea you were so cheesy! OK, OK, I’ll play. That’s better than spontaneous emission?” He waggled his eyebrows. Bruce threw a pillow at him.

“Look out, Bruce! Incoming photons!” Tony lunged forward. “I don’t want you to drop down to a lower energy level yet!” He started hurling the pillows off the bed in his haste to get to Bruce and pin him down. “Why do I have so many damn pillows in all of my bedrooms?”

Bruce wrestled him to the bed. “Hey, Tony, what did the stimulus do the neutron after they got married?”

Tony stilled in thought for a second, “What?”

“Carried him over the threshold.” He raised one hand and brushed it lightly over Tony’s cheekbone. “And now I’m going to make you see stars.”

“Please do, Dr. Banner. Come fly with me,” Tony said softly, touching Bruce’s lips and then dropping his hand down to stroke him to hardness. Bruce groaned as Tony brought his hand to his mouth, licked his palm, and returned to loosely fisting his cock, twisting his wrist a little.

“You know, if that’s what gets you going, I could redecorate in here. Maybe make it look like the ISS. I bet I could work up some anti-gravity.”

“Would I get a space suit?” Bruce hands sought out the waistband of Tony’s boxers and tugged.

Tony obligingly lifted his hips. “You would definitely get a space suit.” He sighed as Bruce finished stripping him, reaching up to trace the whorls of hair on Bruce’s chest. The tiny scars on his fingertips scraped the skin and made Bruce shiver.

“Would there be all kinds of exciting handholds and Velcro straps?” Bruce leaned down to kiss him and then examine and kiss his fingers. “Did you burn yourself with the soldering iron?”

“Maybe? You know, I could have those installed tomorrow back at the mansion in time for the weekend. I’m going to call Happy and get him on that. Someone’s been telling me I should do something about the décor in my bedroom there.” Tony said smugly. “Now which stars exactly am I going to see?”

Bruce grinned at him and ran a hand down the length of his body. “These.”

 

 

“Do you think we’ll be ready?” Kamala asked, looking up into the early morning sky as she ate her breakfast on the compound’s terrace.

Natasha smiled at her. “We have to be.” The grass rippled in the morning breeze, the wave marred by the gouges Chewie had made in the wide green lawn. 

“Like homework,” Kamala said dejectedly, sipping her orange juice. “And studying for exams. It has to get done, so it will get done.”

“Exactly. We’ll be ready. We’ve been planning and working and trying to foresee the future so that we can be ready.”

“Bruce says that with Tony’s involvement, SpaceX has been able to move up their development timetable by years, maybe even decades,” Peter added, sliding into the seat next to Natasha and nodding a good morning to both of them. “So we’ll have people in space in the next few years, headed to Mars and beyond. And the ShareSpace program used that grant from SI and the AI seed Tony and I worked on to develop autonomous robots like Chewie to start construction on Mars. We’re already launching them next year! There’ll be a base there when humans finally get there.”

“Are you going to go?” America asked curiously as she perched on the edge of the terrace and dangled her feet over the low wall.

“Maybe. They’re going to need scientists and superheroes out there,” he tapped his forehead and then flexed his arms.

“Ha!” Kamala said. “Can you imagine the stuff you could do in Mars gravity? It’s what, a third of Earth’s?”

Teddy said, walking out onto the terrace with his plate, “It’s .38 of Earth gravity.”

America snarked, “Pedant.” But she smiled at him and patted the ground next to her in invitation.

Natasha said, “I’m glad Tony has shifted his focus to this. He’s still Iron Man and he always will be, but the fight is bigger than we all originally thought. This is where he can do the most good.”

Peter nodded his head, “Exactly. This is what it was all building toward. And when trouble comes, Earth will be ready.”

“And it won’t all be on the shoulders of a small team of extraordinary individuals,” Natasha added softly. “It’ll be everyone on Earth united in common cause.”

 _“Have you decided not to join them for breakfast, after all, Sir?”_ JARVIS asked as Tony silently turned and walked back toward the room he and Bruce used when they stayed at the compound.

 _Not yet. I forgot that I needed to kiss Bruce one more time.”_ Tony considered. _“If Bruce were willing, would you be interested in becoming more fully integrated into my nervous system? We could have a threesome.”_

_“I am quite confident that Dr. Banner would prefer not to share you.”_

_“That’s not a no, J.”_

“You do realize that you still make some very funny faces when you’re talking to JARVIS, don’t you? What did you forget?” Bruce asked, looking up as he buttoned his shirt.

“I forgot to ravish you,” Tony said, gesturing for FRIDAY to close the door. He advanced on Bruce, “Get ready!”

**Author's Note:**

> [Tony Stark and SI](http://wingheadshellhead.tumblr.com/post/147648626546/geekinglikeaboss-wingheadshellhead-tony-stark)   
>  [JenWalters/She Hulk and the Accords](http://communist-bees.tumblr.com/post/146141921223/honestly-the-next-avengers-movie-should-just-be)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> [The Dangers of Strong AI (embedded links in the article about their concerns)](http://observer.com/2015/08/stephen-hawking-elon-musk-and-bill-gates-warn-about-artificial-intelligence/)  
> [Aldrin Mars Cycler](http://buzzaldrin.com/space-vision/rocket_science/aldrin-mars-cycler/)  
> [Mars Cycler pdf](http://buzzaldrin.com/files/pdf/2002.AIAA_PAPER.Analysis_of_a_Broad_Class_of_Earth-Mars_Cycler_Trajectories.pdf)  
> [NASA: Journey to Mars](https://www.nasa.gov/topics/journeytomars/)  
> [SpaceX: Falcon Heavy](http://www.spacex.com/falcon-heavy)  
> [ShareSpace](http://web.sharespace.org/)  
> [YouTube video of Boston Dynamic's Spot Mini](https://youtu.be/tf7IEVTDjng)  
> The Virtual Foundry
> 
>  
> 
> [100 Days (YouTube)](https://youtu.be/8ouI5KcyHfE<br)  
> [Closer to Fine](http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=7157)  
> [E lucevan le stele](http://www.aria-database.com/search.php?individualAria=305)  
> [The Boy in the Bubble (initial inspiration for this story](http://www.songfacts.com/detail.php?id=26111>The%20Boy%20in%20the%20Bubble%20\(initial%20inspiration%20for%20this%20story\)</a>)


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